


Then Somebody Bends

by AnnieVH



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Magic, Teaching, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-06 06:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11594610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: A long time ago, the Dark One split himself in two and created his complete opposite: the Light One. Both halves fight and bicker with each other, often causing destruction in their way. Tired of having to handle their short-lived truce agreements, Jefferson suggests that they put their fate in the hands of their students, so that they can finally bring this to end their feud. And he has the perfect candidates: Belle and Lacey from Avonlea, two sisters with very different approaches to magic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashadeofpemberley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashadeofpemberley/gifts).



> Your Giftee is: ashadeofpemberley
> 
> The Prompt is: Magical, Madness, Set-up, Twins

 

The very first time the Dark One and the Light One faced each other, the people of the Enchanted Forest called it “The Great Battle Between Good and Evil” and watched the two most powerful beings in all existence go to war with great trepidation.

Seventy eight years later, they just called it “a regular Tuesday, really, don't think too much about it, they'll tire each other out eventually.”

It wasn't that there weren't lasting consequences to their confrontation. Villages could be burned to the ground, minor – and not so minor – natural disasters might happen, and the monarchs across the land would snap their tongues and roll their eyes. However, the recurrence of it had turned people's fears into mild annoyance, and they reacted to a fight of sorcerers like some people might react to a volcano.

“Well...” they would sigh, gathering their belongings. “I suppose we better get out of the way until they're done exploding.”

Things never changed in the Enchanted Forest, and while people sometimes wondered how nice it might be not to have two volatile sorcerers running around, they knew it wasn't about to happen anytime soon. Might as well get used to it. They came, they fought, they blasted mountains, they grumbled away, the Dark One growling that his better half should learn to stay out of other people's businesses, and the Light One complaining that his darker side never seemed to learn.

 

 

No one knew why Rumpelstiltskin decided to split himself in two, though speculation ran wild. Some people said he wanted to become even less human than his curse had already made him. Another popular theory was that his liaison with the Queen of Hearts had left him so heartbroken he wanted to take the pain away. Or perhaps there was just a part of him that kept on feeling guilty over his dark deeds, no matter what he did, and he wanted that gone. It was impossible to know for sure and the very few people who had been brave enough to ask had come out of that conversation with puzzling lies, or scars.

What was a known fact was that Rumpelstiltskin had taken a horrible potion to take away the remains of his humanity, which had become the weaker part of himself anyway. His pity, his kindness, his love, it was all pulled out of him in the form of a weak, tiny man, scrawny, lame and naked. He plopped out of his body and onto the floor, shaking.

Rumpelstiltskin thought it would be easy to eliminate it right then and there but, to his shock, that tiny man pulled himself off the floor and picked up a sword to fight back.

What followed was a hundred-day war between Light and Dark, where both opponents found out, much to Rumpelstiltskin horror and his better half's bafflement, that they were equally strong, equally clever, and equally magical, not to mention equally _immortal_.

They were in for a long battle.

Rumpelstiltskin reached the hundredth day of fighting with an offer of truce. He would have to think this through if he wanted to succeed. Fighting with himself was like nothing he'd done before, he'd have to get clever about it.

His better half, though, reached the end of their war with something he hadn't had in a long time: a purpose. He vowed to dedicate his every breath to protecting the people of the Enchanted Forest against the Dark One and others like him. He was celebrated as a hero and he was given a new name: Sir Gold, the Light One.

Their truce lasted about a month before Rumpelstiltskin came up with another scheme to get rid of Sir Gold. It failed just as miserably as the first one. Another truce was struck before they had the chance to destroy each other, or set anything else on fire. That became their pattern, eventually: the Dark One would use his cunning to try and defeat his other half, while the Light One would often come between him and the shady deals he tried to make in the Enchanted Forest, they would fight, they would declare truce, they would battle again, and so on...

 

 

Seventy-eight years later, they were sitting in the Dark Castle, drafting their latest agreement with the help of Jefferson. As a Portal Jumper, he had special privileges when it came to Rumpelstiltskin and Sir Gold (namely, the privilege of telling them to shut the hell up and stop acting like idiots) so he often got roped up as a mediator in their negotiations.

Today, Jefferson was feeling particularly irritated. He'd been doing this for the last decade and it never seemed to get anywhere, but here they were again, pretending that, this time, it would be different.

“So, are we all in agreement?” he asked, holding up the parchment and quills and looking a little manic with dark circles under his eyes.

Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes at the other side of the table. He'd put on his best dragon skin coat for the occasion, which had a lot more to do with the fact that it was the best coat for concealing weapons than a fashion choice. With that on, he looked even more like a lizard than usual.

The Light One, on the other hand, drummed his fingers on the table and didn't bother to look at the other sorcerer at all. He looked nothing like the frightened man who had clawed his way out of Rumpelstiltskin's body and then his castle. Now, he'd learned to stand tall and proud, especially when in the presence of his maker. He'd come to the meeting in his golden battle armor, since the slightest disagreement usually resulted in a sword fight. The Dark One's first remark upon seeing him had been, “Living up to the name, aren't you, Goldie?” and it had taken Sir Gold all of his will power not to smite him right then and there.

“Rumpelstiltskin,” Jefferson proceeded, already exhausted after four hours of trying to avoid another war, “do you agree not to attempt assassination, avoid the burning of villages and tormenting of innocent people, and to stay away from major political chaos as long as Sir Gold keeps to his side of the deal?”

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said, and even though Jefferson could see that he was already searching for a loophole to be explored in the future, he carried on.

“Sir Gold, do you agree to leave Rumpelstiltskin to deal with his clients as he sees fit and allow people to pay the price of magic as long as the burden is not too great and no major political intrigues or natural disasters, including large-scale curses, result from such deals for as long as Rumpelstiltskin keeps to his side of the deal?”

“I give him two weeks,” Sir Gold said.

Rumpelstiltskin snickered. “I've heard the bets don't go over ten days, dearie. You might want to reevaluate that.”

“Gentleman, please!” Jefferson begged. “We've been here for four hours and I know we'll be back at this table sooner than any of us would like, but could we just say yes, shake hands, and pretend that we're going to play nice from now on? I have a child waiting for me at home.”

“Yes,” Sir Gold said, reluctantly. “Yes, Jefferson, I'll keep to my side of the deal.”

The quill was passed around.

As soon as Rumpelstiltskin signed his name on the dotted line and Jefferson thought he was going to be allowed to go home, he asked, “So I'm allowed to hire the services of a murderous pirate for any assassination attempts, correct?”

Jefferson groaned. Five seconds. That had to be a new record.

Sir Gold all but shouted, “Didn't you read the addendum? Pirates are off the table!”

“It mentioned sailors!”

“Pirates are sailors!”

“But what about land pirates?”

“That would be a common thief!”

“Not if they call themselves a pirate, they're not!”

Gold stared at Rumpelstiltskin with furious eyes. “I shouldn't have to say this, but if you're thinking of sinking a pirate ship so that the crew will have to go live on shore and resort to thievery while maintaining the title of pirates _just so you can have a loophole_ -”

“Well, I can't unsink the pirate ship now!”

“That – is – _it_!”

Sir Gold pulled up his sword just as Rumpelstiltskin conjured up a fireball.

“Everybody put the weapons down or so help me the two of you won't be doing realm jumping for a _year_!” Jefferson shouted.

Sir Gold said, “But did you hear-” and Rumpelstiltskin protested, “He started!” but Jefferson slammed his hands on the table and both of them sat back down like naughty children. No one really understood just how much power Jefferson held over these two men but it was a lot greater than people gave him credit for.

“Let's all be quiet for a moment,” he said, rubbing his temples. “Please, just five minutes... then we can all hate each other again.”

“I don't hate Rumpelstiltskin,” Sir Gold said. “He was part of me and I understand that all that he does comes from a place of fear, not hatred. I just wish that we could find a reasonable compromise so that no one has to suffer from our actions.”

“Yes, and I don't hate Sir Gold,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “I just wish him dead.”

“Jefferson, you have to see that I'm the reasonable one here,” Gold said. “This land can't take much more of his trickery.”

“Jefferson, this is absurd! People come to me out of their own volition and somehow I'm the villain in this story? If Sir Gold thinks what I do is so bad, why doesn't he use his magic to save everyone in the land instead of forcing them to come and see me?”

“I would if I weren't so busy cleaning after your royal messes!”

“I didn't ask you to!”

“I'm the only one who can!”

“You're the only one with a martyr complex-”

“I said _quiet_!” Jefferson shouted, so loud that it echoed within the walls of the castle for a good minute.

The Dark One and the Light One sat still, not even looking at each other, for good measure.

“Would you like some tea, Jefferson?” Sir Gold offered. Jefferson had walked out on the negotiations once before and it had caused an even bigger mess.

“I have recreational poison, as well, if tea is not strong enough,” Rumpelstiltskin offered.

Sir Gold threw him a look but held his tongue. They were hanging by a thread at this point.

“This isn't going to work,” Jefferson said, his tired face emerging from behind his hands. “We've been doing this for ten years and it never does. The longest you two managed to stay off of each other's throats was seventy eight days, and that's only because Rumpelstiltskin was in Wonderland for seventy seven of those. In a week or less, he's going to do something you don't like-”

“I'm not always the one who starts it...” Rumpelstiltskin muttered.

“And then you're going to spend a ridiculous amount of time overthinking things-”

“I don't overthink things,” Sir Gold said.

“And, after a ridiculous amount of shenanigans that will very likely get someone killed, we'll be back at this table trying to calm things down and making empty promises to each other.”

“Would you rather we just went for each other's throats without any moral or legal restraints?” Sir Gold asked.

“At this point, I don't know if it would make much of a difference.”

Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. “Clearly you haven't read about the Great Fourth War Between Light and Dark.”

“You both have to bring this to an end.”

“We can't kill each other. We're immortal,” Gold said. “And all attempts at imprisoning each other failed because we know how the other one thinks.”

Jefferson thought for a moment and said, “Perhaps that is the problem. You're fighting each other.”

“Are you suggesting we get an army?”

“See, this is why you should've read about the Great Fourth War Between Light and Dark.”

“Involving an army is a mistake. Even he will tell you that.”

“Yes, and if _I_ think it's a bad idea-”

“No, not an army,” Jefferson corrected them. “A student.”

Rumpelstiltskin perked up. “Oh! A witch fight! Well, that is interesting.”

“I don't take students, Jefferson,” Gold said.

The Dark One clapped his hands. “So I win by default! I like this!”

“No, no, not an old student. I will find you new ones, a witch for each of you to train and teach from the ground up. Within a year, you will get together again-”

“And they shall battle to the death?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, salivating at the prospect.

“Why is everything so murderous with you?” Jefferson asked. “I was thinking more along the lines of a noble quest.”

“A deathly noble quest!”

“Fine, I can compromise. Deathly noble quest it is. And if Sir Gold's student loses, I will take him to another realm and he will have to live in exile for the rest of his days. And if Rumpelstiltskin's student loses, then he will be the one in exile. No loopholes, no cheating-”

“No rules?” Rumpelstiltskin tried.

“No!” Jefferson snapped. “ _Several_ rules! Extensive rules, written in leather-bind volumes, we're doing this thoroughly this time. Do we agree on that or not?”

The Dark One and the Light One stared at each other. That seemed like a way to bring their situation to an end, even if it was less than ideal.

“I agree,” Sir Gold said.

“Me too,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “But who will choose our students?”

“I will,” Jefferson decided. “You know you can trust me to remain impartial. Two girls of equal power for you to train.”

“Should we gather here in a month, then?” Gold suggested.

“In a month you'll both have set the forest on fire, or something equally absurd. By the end of the week, I already have two girls in mind.” Jefferson headed to the door. “I just have to convince their father.”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should point out that the following three chapters have not yet been betaed due to time issues. I will edit any mistakes as soon as possible.

Being a Portal Jumper had its perks. Free passage to all lands, the chance to know the most exotic realms, the adventure, the gold, and the opportunity to yell at powerful sorcerers when they behaved like toddlers. Out of all the perks, though, Jefferson's favorite was that he got to be invited to spectacular balls. Nobility loved a Portal Jumper just as much as they loved war heroes and gallivant knights. They told interesting stories and charmed the guests easily.

Jefferson took full advantage of that privilege and, before his daughter was born, he used to go to every ball he could get an invitation to – and crash some that he didn't. In one such event, he crossed paths with Sir Maurice of Avonlea. A war hero, he'd been granted a title and land for his services under King Leopold, and he had twin daughters.

Their names were Belle and Lacey, both just as beautiful as they were clever and, as luck would have it, they had been blessed with magical powers.

At least Jefferson though of it as a blessing, Sir Maurice didn't think that way.

“Absolutely not!” was Maurice's answer, just as Jefferson had been waiting. It didn't make him feel any less determined.

“Maurice, if you hear me out, you'll realize that this is a great-”

“I don't have to hear you out. You're not taking my girls to that _beast_.”

“Well, no, not _both_ of them. One goes to Sir Gold.”

Maurice got up so fast his chair screeched on the floor. Jefferson let him pace the room.

He'd come ready to face the other man's objections and he understood where they came from. A year ago, he'd held meetings in this room where he'd planned attacks on the ogres. Now, it had reversed back to what it used to be and the dinner table was covered in food, not maps. He was allowed to enjoy peace and a meal with an old friend again, but his nerves hadn't yet gone back to normal.

Then again, his wife had always been the reasonable one.

“I will not endorse this madness,” Maurice said, pacing furiously. “A load of good it's done us. Lacey grows more and more defiant each passing year, and now she's talking about traveling. By herself. It's ludicrous and dangerous, and what will people say? You know what she's done to the Sheriff of Nottingham-”

“From what I've heard, Keith was asking for trouble,” Jefferson said.

“Then she should've let me handle him,” Maurice said. “No suitors will go near her now.”

Jefferson had heard that Lacey had no trouble finding admirers, or lovers for that matter, when her father wasn't looking. She was in the habit of sneaking out at night and their paths had crossed more than once in the taverns of Avonlea.

“What about Belle?” Jefferson asked. He knew that, if he got Belle to agree to it, their father would comply. She had always been a reasonable young lade and Maurice trusted her judgment. “That girl always had her head above her shoulders-”

“Belle swore off magic.”

Jefferson tried not to look too shocked at that. “Oh. I assumed that, since the marriage didn't- I mean, it'd been Gaston's condition that she didn't use her magic.”

“She's keeping to her word, to honor his name. And her mother.”

“That's a pity.”

“I think it's for the best. Not with what it's doing to her sister's morals.”

“But even you can't deny Belle's magic saved the lives of more than one soldier.”

Maurice grunted, which was what he did when he couldn't win an argument.

“Besides, you and I both know magic never really goes away.”

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying it would be a shame if she lost control. People talk.”

Maurice dropped heavily on his chair. He was changed. Jefferson thought that the end of the war might bring back the man he once knew but perhaps he'd lost too much.

“Belle is beautiful,” he said, after a moment. “She used to make flowers bloom and she turned silverware into doves at parties just to make people laugh. Her magic is as light as can be, you know this.”

“I do.”

“All those healing spells, she learned them on her own. She fortified the walls of our castle herself and it took so many ogres that-”

He stopped. He didn't like to think of what happened when the ogres finally managed to bring down the door.

“You want to shove that beautiful girl into the arms of that beast.”

“I want her to learn from the best.”

“He's going to turn her into something twisted and ugly. That man is tricky and you know it. We all know that the Evil Queen was his student once. So was her mother.”

“So was I,” Jefferson pointed out.

Maurice went quiet.

“If he hadn't taught me how to use my hat, I would still be nothing but a tailor's apprentice in Wonderland.”

“That's different.”

“How so?”

“Their power is not like yours, it comes from within.”

“Then Belle will go with Sir Gold and Lacey-”

“That would be worse. Belle would at least make an effort to resist. Lacey though, she's fascinated by her own magic. Obsessed, even. It has a wicked hold on her mind.” Maurice sighed. “She'd go with you without batting an eye.”

Jefferson decided to change his approach. He said, “Maurice, you can't just hope this will go away. Lacey clearly doesn't want it to and Belle might be trying, but magic doesn't fade if you just ignore it. And you know what happened to the Ice Queen of Arendelle.”

Maurice thought for a moment, then said, “I'm going to regret this, I know I will.”

He sent for his daughters.

 

 

Jefferson hadn't seen them since the end of the war when their father had thrown a great feast. It was a year later and neither girl had changed much.

Lacey, the second born, had switched to half-mourning clothes, at least while she was in the castle, but the black dress and the purple sash around her waist didn't suit her. Her hair was up in a braid that was unnecessarily flashy and her face opened in a smile when she saw him.

“I should've guessed it was you,” she said, forgetting all modesty and giving Jefferson a tight hug. “No one else bring a smile to Ruby's face.”

Maurice cleared his throat but Lacey didn't let go for a very long time.

Then, Jefferson looked at Belle, the first born. A year later, she still insisted on being in full mourning, though he wasn't sure if that was for the fiance or her mother. Despite the fact that both girls shared the same face, he could tell them apart easily. Belle had a softness in her eyes that Lacey, with all her fiery personality, lacked. She bowed but offered him a smile. Jefferson could tell she didn't smile as often as she used to.

“And what grants us the visit of a portal jumper?” Lacey asked, excitedly. “Have you any tales of distant places?”

“Not today. I actually come bearing a proposition.”

“A proposition? How intriguing!”

Belle looked at her father. Maurice experience one last moment of doubt, then he said, “I'll let the three of you talk.” On his way out, he told Belle, “Listen to him very carefully. You know I trust your judgment in all matters.”

Belle nodded.

He had advice for Lacey.

“Why don't we sit?” Jefferson asked. Belle and Lacey took the chairs on the other side of the table so they would face him. “I've heard some rumors, you know?”

“Yes? And what would them be?” Lacey asked, though she could've guessed.

“I've heard _someone_ turned the Sheriff of Nottingham into a squealing pig.”

Lacey laughed. “Well, I heard he told _someone_ she wasn't worthy of being his kitchen maid. I think he was asking for it. Maiden Marian thought it was funny.”

“I bet.” He turned to Belle. “And I've heard _you_ have lost all interest in magic.”

Belle considered his accusation for a moment, then said, “It's done me no good.”

Jefferson considered the way both girls had handled their abilities from the beginning. Lacey had never shied away from it. Just before her 12th birthday, she discovered that she could set things on fire if she allowed herself to be angry and emotional instead of listening to her governess and being prim like a lady should. After that day, no matter how much her father begged her to keep it down and her mother advised her to be cautious, she craved to make her powers stronger.

Lacey liked magic, she'd told Jefferson so on multiple occasions. It was freeing and empowering. She was strong enough to face any man or woman who tried to harm her, there were no locked doors she couldn't open and no places she couldn't reach. In a land that valued a woman's ability to be demure, she was breaking the rules that had been imposed on her and making her own.

Belle, on the other hand, had been much more careful when it came to her powers. The moment she first felt them blossoming, she studied all she could about magic and allowed them to develop slowly. They opened up to her like the petals of a flower and, by the age of fifteen, she was just as well versed in magic as her sister.

At the age of twenty two, both girls were powerful, but Belle understood that magic scared people and that was not what she wished to do. She wanted to help others. She healed maladies, restored crops, and performed party tricks to make people smile. She read to children by the fire and draw a dragon in smoke that made them gasp with delight. Lacey, meanwhile, was turning water into whiskey in a tavern and bringing soldiers into her chambers under cloaking spells.

It wasn't until the war started that her fierceness and passion became an asset.

Jefferson knew that Lacey was a fighter, she was the one who defied Maurice's orders and joined the front when the Ogre War took a turn for the worse. She led men into battle and saved the lives of many because swords could only do so much.

Belle was just as essential to victory. She tended to the wounded at the infirmary and restored entire villages after the ogres trampled them to the ground. And then, when they needed more soldiers, she agreed to marry Lord Legume's son for a political alliance.

“Belle, your magic is beautiful,” Jefferson said, and she lowered her eyes. “You were born with a gift, the both of you.”

He could see this being an issue when Gaston was still alive. The young heir was mistrustful because his family had had many dealings with the Dark One before but Sir Maurice had considerably more land (granted, most of which was on fire at the time) and riches than his father did. And his daughters were truly beautiful. After a weekend in their castle, he was ready to take Belle's hand if she willingly forsook all magic upon marriage. Her mother was gone by then, unable to protest, and so she said yes. It was a small price to pay.

But now that Gaston was dead, Jefferson couldn't understand the problem.

“If this is to respect Gaston's wishes-” he said.

“It's not,” Belle cut in. “This is me.”

Jefferson looked at Lacey. She shook her head slightly, indicating that he should drop it.

“Then I don't know if my offer will be of interest to you. You both remember Sir Gold, of course.”

“He saved our land,” Belle said. She'd been the one to thank him for his service and offer him a golden sword as a token of their gratitude.

His reply had been an apology. “I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner.”

“He wasn't much of a team player,” Lacey said, never one to measure words. “Kept treating me like a child.”

“Yes, he's a bit of a lone wolf,” Jefferson agreed with a smile. “And, as it turns out, he's looking for a student.”

Lacey's jaw dropped and Belle looked up from the table.

“He told me he doesn't take students,” Lacey said.

“He does now. He and his, uhn, darker half are in search of two talented witches to train in the magical arts for the next year. Obviously, I thought of you.”

“Rumpelstiltskin is taking another student?” Belle said. Everyone knew that these things never boded well.

“Two wizards, two witches.”

“Why?” Belle asked.

“Does it even matter?” Lacey said, more excited than Jefferson had ever seen her. “They're in search of new students, Belle! And they want us!”

Jefferson didn't correct her.

“Do you have any idea what they could teach us?”

“Rumpelstiltskin does nothing for free,” Belle said, ever the rational one. “We begged for his help once and he demanded half our crops for his services. If Sir Gold hadn't come and rid our land of the ogres, Avonlea would be broke by now.”

“You're clever. There is a price to pay,” Jefferson said. “As you know, Rumple and Gold have a sort of... contentious relationship.”

“We know,” both sisters answered in unison with about the same indifference that the rest of the land showed in the matter.

“They've agreed to put their fates in the hands of two witches of equal power. Each of them will take a student and train her in the magical arts to the best of their abilities, for one year. At the end of that year, they will give both students a task – nothing too dangerous or immoral. I will make sure of it myself. Whoever loses, her teacher will have to leave the land.”

“They'd be putting a lot of trust on two strangers,” Belle said.

“And what about us?” Lacey asked, cautious for the first time.

Jefferson shrugged. “You'll come home wiser and more powerful than ever. I will handle the both of them.”

“I fail to see the downside,” she told Belle.

Her sister, though, didn't seem convinced.

“I have no interest in magic anymore, Jefferson. You should take Lacey and find someone else.”

“I would but this is a package deal, Belle. I need the both of you. Their students need to be equal in every way.”

“We're not. Lacey is way more powerful than I am.”

Her sister didn't disagree.

“I admit Lacey is more aggressive, but you too have great power. You reconstructed entire towns in a day. You saved soldiers and civilians from certain death-”

“Not every one,” Lacey said.

Belle closed her eyes, pained, as though her sister had stabbed her.

Jefferson gave Lacey a reprehending look. To her credit, she said, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.”

“You can't save everyone,” Jefferson agreed. “But more would've certainly died without your help. And under the right tutelage, you can develop your skills and become better. Belle?”

She looked at him. Jefferson saw something dark in her watery eyes. Lacey had been at the front, she'd seen the horror of battle up close, but Belle looked more haunted than her sister. She'd always had a softer heart.

“Come with us for a year,” he asked. “You will be better for it.”

Belle seemed to be considering it.

Lacey said, soft and pleading, “Belle, I really want to go.”

Her sister sighed. “One year, no more than that.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

On the last night they spent at their childhood home, Lacey was terrified that her sister would change her mind and put an end to the adventure before it even began. Father would never allow her to go on her own to apprentice with the most powerful wizard in the land and, as Jefferson said, they needed Belle, or else they were not interested.

Not that she'd let that stop her at all. If Belle decided she wanted to stay home and lick her wounds and father forbade her from going, then Lacey would do as she always did: go behind his back and do whatever she wanted anyway. And if Rumpelstiltskin refused to see her because her sister wasn't with her, too bad. She'd storm his castle and demand to see him, she wouldn't leave his side until she convinced him to take her in as his student.

Belle didn't change her mind, though, and she spent the following days in a quiet melancholy. Lacey knew she was reconsidering the arrangement and, despite the fact that their conversation had become infrequent since the war, she still tried to be encouraging, claiming that they had been given a great opportunity and how she couldn't wait to start a new adventure.

“I'm not breaking my promise, Lacey,” Belle said, rather icy, so that Lacey would stop talking. “You're getting your lessons, but I don't have to be happy about it.”

After that, she decided not to push.

They packed their bags modestly and met at the gate without having said a word to each other. Emotions were running high these days and neither wanted to be the one to start a fight. At least Belle had put away the mourning clothes, choosing a practical summer dress for their trip. Standing side-by-side, Belle in blue and Lacey in bright lilac, it almost felt like old times, before the war had come and changed everything. She almost expected her sister to make a silly magic trick to cheer their father up but she kept her hands on her bag, perfectly still.

Father kissed Belle on the forehead, his eyes misty with tears, and told her, “Be brave, my love. This will only make you wiser.”

Then, he moved to Lacey and kissed her forehead as well. She thought he'd send her off without a word – perhaps a little relieved not to have to handle her magic anymore – but then he said, “Be good, Lacey. Don't let this harden your heart.”

Lacey heard herself saying, “I won't, father,” and followed her sister and friend to the carriage waiting just outside the gates.

All thoughts of her father disappeared when she realized the carriage wasn't being pulled by horses at all. Belle covered her mouth with her hand but Lacey darted forward, hands outstretched to feel the empty air in front of her.

“Are the horses invisible?” she asked.

“No, no. This is Rumpelstiltskin's carriage,” Jefferson said. “I'm afraid he never got along very well with animals. It will get us there faster than any horse ever could.”

“And where is there, exactly?” Belle asked, suspicious.

Jefferson looked over his shoulder. Their father was out of their ear range but he still whispered, “The Dark Castle.”

“ _The Dark Castle_?” Lacey squealed, being immediately shushed. “No one is allowed in there!”

“Not only are you both allowed, you were invited. Just don't tell Maurice or he'll have my head.” The carriage door opened and Jefferson made a flourish with his hand. “After you, miladies.”

Lacey climbed inside, holding on to Jefferson's hand, but Belle still gave the castle a longing look. At the door, father waved at her.

“Belle, we need to go,” Jefferson pressed, gently.

She took his hand and joined her sister inside.

“This will be a great adventure, you'll see,” Jefferson said, as Belle wiped her tears and settled near the window.

“I always wanted to see the world,” Belle sighed, as if she was now regretting it.

The carriage began to move and Lacey realized Jefferson hadn't lied. It was much faster than anything she'd ever seen. The roads and the trees flew by their window and she tried to keep track of the way they were taking but it was impossible. Slowly, the warm weather of Avonlea was replaced by something chilling as they began to climb a mountain.

By nightfall, they'd gotten to a snowy land and even Belle gave their view a smile. They had never seen snow before. Wherever it was that they were going, it had to be the north, where it was still winter.

“This is wonderful,” Lacey said, daring to extend her arm out of the window to gather a few snowflakes in her palm, no matter how freezing it was.

“I'm afraid we've packed too lightly,” Belle said, rubbing her arms.

“I'm sure you'll be fine,” Jefferson said. “We're here! Mind your step...”

The carriage had stopped by the gates of a castle, definitely larger than most Lacey had seen but rather unimpressive. Imposing, yes, quite so, but it was hidden in the shadows of the many mountains that surrounded it, as if the Dark One was trying to make it invisible or inaccessible. How people managed to find him to make deals, Lacey didn't know.

“It'll be warmer once we're inside, don't worry,” Jefferson assured them as they hurried through the doors in their summer dresses.

Unfortunately, the inside was just as freezing, even when the doors closed behind them.

“Goodness, it's rather cold in this land, isn't it?” Belle said, teeth rattling

“Allow me,” Lacey said, and waved her hands to produce a ball of fire that floated in the air, bright and blue.

Jefferson let out a “Whoa!” and even Belle seemed taken aback.

“When did you learn to do that?” her sister asked.

Lacey shrugged. “During the war. The trenches got really cold at night.”

“Well, my friends will be impressed, I'm sure,” Jefferson said. To Belle, he said, “And, uhn, if you could, maybe-”

“Which way should we go?” she cut in.

Jefferson didn't insist and led them up the stairs, Lacey's ball of fire following close behind them.

The castle was huge and Lacey thought it would be easy to get lost in it but Jefferson seemed to know where he was going. Clearly, he'd been here many times before, taking turns and going through doors without thinking twice, while Lacey could barely remember the way they were taking.

Two staircases up, one down, second door to the left, cross the hallway...

A few stories up, just as they were beginning to get warm, they heard something clashing and Jefferson picked up the pace.

“Can't leave them alone for five minutes,” he said, under his breath. They stopped by a door, the noise clearly coming from the other side of it. “Wait here, I'll make sure it's safe.”

He sneaked in, leaving both girls behind, alone and at a loss.

A snarling voice said, “To hell with it, I'm finishing you off now!” It was like Sir Gold's voice, only... angrier, and in a higher pitch.

Then, their friend's desperate, “No, no! They're here! Put that thing down! _I said put that down_!”

“I don't care! He just said-”

“Rumpelstiltskin, I will drop you in the middle of Neverland!”

Silence.

“I mean it, put that down!”

They heard a low growling but the clashing immediately stopped.

“And _you_ , I told you not to engage him.”

“He's been baiting me for an hour,” said Sir Gold's voice, which was much lower and worn out than the Dark One's.

“You both better be on your best behavior. Your students are here and they're good friends of mine.”

Lacey and Belle exchanged a look, the first excited regardless of what they'd heard, the latter dubious and questioning her decision to be here at all.

Jefferson stuck his head through the door, put on a smile and said, “They're ready for you, girls.”

Lacey smoothed down her dress. To her surprise, Belle took her hand and gave it a squeeze. She didn't dare to let go and they walked into the room together, hand in hand.

 

 

Belle's first thought was that she'd walked into a war zone, and she'd seen a fair amount of them in her lifetime. Someone had clearly been throwing furniture around and there were broken pieces of china and wood everywhere. Swords – seven of them – had been tossed to the side n the floor. There were pedestals tumbled to the side or broken in half, the trinkets they'd hold spread on the floor. Belle assumed that, in a good day, this was the room where the Dark One kept his treasures.

In the middle of it all, stood Rumpelstiltskin and Sir Gold.

Sir Gold hadn't changed at all in a year. He still wore the same golden armor which made him look much bigger than he actually was. Belle remembered being in front of him to present his golden sword; she was used to feeling that people were towering over her, but he didn't. He was a short man. Perhaps that was why he always had his armor on.

She'd never met Rumpelstiltskin and never seen pictures of him in books. All she had were tales of his mischief. Now, looking at him, she could see that such tales had been both greatly exaggerated and severely underwhelming. Pirates tended to refer to him as The Crocodile and she could see why, as his skin was covered in scales, but he was definitely not seven feet tall nor was he breathing smoke and fire. Somehow, the reality of him, stripped of myths and fantasy, was even more fascinating.

“Ah, the students,” he said, snickering at them as they walked in. “Excellent!”

“What is this?” Sir Gold asked, eyeing the girls and then Jefferson.

“Rumpelstiltskin, Sir Gold,” Jefferson said, with usual showmanship. “I present to you your new students. Lady Belle, of Avonlea, and her sister, Lady Lacey, of Avonlea. Surely you've heard tales of their abilities.”

“Oh, yes, Sir Maurice's daughters,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “How's your ogre problem?”

“Don't be daft,” Sir Gold snapped at the Dark One.

“Right. My better half took care of that matter, as I recall.”

Belle wanted to be offended but she wasn't. There was something strange about his voice that had caught her attention. He kept his pitch high and forced a giggle every other sentence but there was no happiness in his tone. Belle had the feeling she was watching a performance, though a rather convincing one.

Rumpelstiltskin said, “And which one of you did _that_?”

Lacey's fire floated though the air and ended up in his hand.

“I did,” Lacey volunteered, taking a step forward and letting go of Belle's hand.

He manipulated the fire in his hands as though he could see in it something that no one else could.

“Very good size, good heat. _But_!” He clapped his hands together and the fire puffed into smoke. “Not very good endurance. These things should be able to hold their on, dearie. What good is a fire if anyone can put it out?”

“Are you saying you're just like anyone?” Lacey said, without batting an eye. She looked at Sir Gold. “Perhaps I should be taught by your brother, then.”

“Now, now, let's not be hasty,” Rumpelstiltskin said, quickly. “I didn't say it wasn't promising-”

“He's not my brother,” Gold said.

Rumpelstiltskin waved a hand at him. “Technicality, Light One. Don't be rude to the guests.”

Jefferson asked, “So, how will we do this? Should we flip for it or you want to see resumes?”

He laughed.

Belle didn't. She twisted her hands nervously. If they asked her to perform a magical act, she didn't know what she would do. She was rather rusty.

Before anyone had the chance to talk, though, Gold demanded, “Jefferson, a word!” and waved his hand to swish them both away at once.

“Bloody drama queen,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered under his breath. He smiled at them – specifically, at Lacey. “Make yourselves at home.”

Belle let out a little squeal when a chair floated across the room and pushed the back of her knees, forcing her to sit down.

“I'll go make sure Sir Alarmed-a-lot doesn't ruin anything.”

With that, he puffed away as well.

Belle looked at Lacey, hoping to see at least some mistrust in her eyes.

Lacey was smiling wider than she'd ever seen.

“This is going to be fantastic!”

 

 

“Not them,” Gold said, pointing a finger at Jefferson. “I don't accept this.”

Rumpelstiltskin appeared before Jefferson could give him an answer. He looked around.

“For the last time, don't come into my vault!” he snapped at Gold. “I know for a fact Aunt Fauna taught you that it is rude to snoop around.”

“I didn't want them to be able to follow us.”

“Have you seen those girls? I doubt they can move around by magic, let alone in a place so heavily guarded.”

“If that's the case, then Jefferson can find us someone else.”

“The point of this,” Jefferson argued, “is that you'll get them both from scratch. I wouldn't worry though, I've seen them both perform amazing feats, and can we _please_ go have this conversation in the kitchen? This place freaks me out.”

As Rumpelstiltskin's official Portal Jumper, Jefferson had a very good idea of the sorts of objects the sorcerer kept in this dark and seemingly endless vault. There were no doors or windows, no way in or out that wasn't by magic and it had always been his worst fear that he'd end up locked in here with no chance of rescue.

Deep into a dark corridor, something made a crawling sound and he jumped.

“ _What was that_?”

“I like the amateurs, Goldie,” Rumpelstiltskin said, ignoring their friend. “Especially that Verna girl. She has some fire in her, pun intended.”

“Who?” Jefferson asked, still looking over his shoulder.

“Verna? The one in the purple dress?”

“Her name is _Lacey_ ,” Gold said, sounding furious.

“Lacey?” he repeated, finding it hard to accept it. “She looks more like a Verna to me, and I know names. Oh well, doesn't matter, that one is mine.”

“You're not getting her because we're not using them.”

“Oh, yes, we are!”

“No, we're not!”

“Oh, no, Gold,” Jefferson said, finally looking at them. “You _are_. This is not optional. You both asked me to find someone and I did, so suck it up.”

“It was a reckless choice on your part,” Gold said. “I expected more from you, Jefferson. To put those girls through this.”

“Put them through this? Lacey was slaying ogres long before you even got to their war and Belle was a nurse throughout the war. They're brave and strong.”

“Yes, that is exactly my point,” Gold argued. “They've been through enough already. They don't need to be shoved in the middle of our feud.”

“I didn't shove them, I convinced them. Though, really, I could barely hold Lacey back.”

Rumpelstiltskin snickered again. “I like that girl!”

“Yes, I know you do,” Gold said. “You probably want to push her into overthrowing a kingdom just for fun.”

“If it upsets you so much, he can have Belle,” Jefferson suggested.

“No, he's not going near her,” Gold said, horrified at the prospect.

He'd met Lacey briefly in the trenches, a bruised and messy young lady with determination in her eyes that he thought was both admirable and heartbreaking. She didn't think twice before offering to go ahead and slow the ogres down for him. Gold had to hold her back, which had frustrated her immensely, and probably saved her life.

Belle, though, he'd only met once and very briefly, during the ceremony that preceded the great victory feast. Gold no longer enjoyed these frivolities but Sir Maurice had insisted on it, saying that awarding him a gift would help signal to his people that the war was truly over. Belle had been the one to stand in front of him and thank him officially for his services, with an unpractical golden sword and a kiss on the cheek. Her voice had been small and her eyes full of tears for friends and family lost. Lacey, who'd stood right behind her sister, still looked a little angry that she'd been kept from the fight by a more experienced knight, but seemed ready to celebrate their victory nonetheless. Belle didn't. She had too much and too many to mourn.

He honestly couldn't decide which would be worst, for Rumpelstiltskin to get his hands on Lacey, who clearly craved for glory and power, or Belle, who he could easily break.

“I'll forfeit the fight, then,” Gold said.

“You'll what?” Jefferson asked, baffled.

“Yes, you'll what?” Rumpelstiltskin repeated.

“I'll forfeit the fight and leave. The girls can go back home.”

Rumpelstiltskin clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Jefferson, get your hat.”

“Now, wait just a second, you self-sacrificing moron,” Jefferson snapped. “You're letting him win and exile you into a strange land out of some misguided sense of duty to those girls?”

“My sense of duty is not misguided.”

“No, idiotic is a better word.”

Gold narrowed his eyes. “You weren't there for the war, Jefferson. You showed up for the feast, as usual, but you have no idea what they've been through.”

Now, Jefferson was glaring a him, and not with the usual annoyance. It didn't happen very often where Sir Gold was concerned but he'd manage to offend him deeply.

“I've known them both since they were ten, Gold, don't tell me that I don't understand,” he said, coldly. “I was there when they discovered their powers, when they began to fight and when they buried their mother. They're my friends and I wouldn't have brought them to you if I didn't think they needed your help. Especially Belle.”

“What sort of help could they get from me?” Gold insisted, stubborn as ever.

“The war took something from her. It awakened Lacey to her potential but it only showed Belle all of her limitations. She needs a teacher who will show her a way around this.”

Gold averted his eyes and paced the room.

“He's not changing his mind,” Rumpelstiltskin said, quickly. “Get your hat.”

“So that is it, you wish to forfeit the challenge? Very well, I'll take you to another land and you'll leave the Enchanted Forest in his deranged hands, yes?”

“Wha- you're supposed to be a neutral party!” Rumpelstiltskin protested.

“And you know that won't stop them him from taking Lacey under his tutelage. Hell, he'll take them both if he knows it will piss you off, regardless of you being here or not.”

Gold looked at Rumpelstiltskin. The Dark One avoided his eyes, he couldn't even pretend that that wasn't true.

“I'll take one of them, then,” Gold gave in.

Rumpelstiltskin growled. “Why did you have to convince him?”

“Excellent. Will you take Belle?”

“I cannot choose,” Gold said. Belle, with her broken eyes, was his first instinct. She needed to be protected, but he didn't like the thought of Lacey being in Rumpelstiltskin's hands either. “And I don't think it's fair that he chooses either.”

“We'll flip for it, then.”

“He'll cheat.”

Rumpelstiltskin smirked. “Heh, that's true. I would cheat.”

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Fine, take us back. We'll solve this some other way.”

 

 

Rumpelstiltskin arrived at the treasure room first, he wanted another glimpse at the girls before Gold could burst in. Right now, they were sitting neatly in their chairs and the large dinner table he'd tried to throw on Gold's head was now back on its legs, a tea set on it.

Gold and Jefferson materialized a moment later.

“And which one of you did that?” Rumpelstiltskin asked.

They shot to their feet.

“No, please, sit down. There's no need for that,” Gold said.

“Now, now, dearie, let the girls show their teachers some respect.”

The Light One gave him a glare.

Rumple looked at Belle, the quiet sister. She was probably the one responsible for the tea, the one most likely to use her magic in such a small and unassuming way – the other one would probably have made the teapot sing.

However, Lacey said, “I did. We wanted to warm up.”

“And what about you, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin asked. He tried to take a step closer, eyes full of greed, but Gold held him back and gave him a warning look.

 _One more year_ , he thought, _and I'll get rid of you forever._

“You've been terribly shy this evening while your sister's been quite boastful,” he continued. “Why don't you show us something?”

Belle's eyes went from Lacey to Rumpelstiltskin to Gold.

“Oh, I- I haven't done magic in over a year. I'll probably do something wrong.”

“No, Belle, there's no right or wrong when it comes to magic,” Jefferson said.

Both men aimed equal, baffled expressions at him.

“What are you talking about? Are you insane?” Gold asked.

“There is _plenty_ of wrong when it comes to magic! Is this what you tell people in your travels?” Rumpelstiltskin said, unusually in agreement with his lighter half.

“Right, well, then perhaps I shouldn't do anything until we've covered the basics,” Belle said.

“If you wish,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “To more pressing affairs, then. How shall we decide this?”

They looked at Jefferson.

“Well, since you cannot choose and I cannot trust luck to decide, perhaps it should be the ladies' choice.”

No one objected.

“Will I at least be able to flip this coin without starting a war?” Jefferson asked, aiming the question at Rumpelstiltskin.

He shrugged. It didn't matter who won, he new exactly how this was going to go.

“I'll take that as a 'possibly'.”

He tossed the coin in the air. Lacey called heads just it reached it's peak.

“Tails. Belle, you may go first.”

To his right, Sir Gold had his eyes on Belle, his chest swelling with pride. He'd said that he couldn't choose but Rumpelstiltskin knew that wasn't true. He didn't _want_ to choose because favoring Belle over her sister meant he was leaving Lacey for the Dark One to break and misshape.

_Coward._

It suited him fine. Lacey was the best choice. While Gold would be turning his girl into a sweet little angel, he'd be pushing the smart sister to achieve her true potential, and when the time came to-

Belle walked straight to Rumpelstiltskin.

He stared at her, puzzled by her sudden appearance in front of him and not really understanding what that meant until he saw Lacey go with Sir Gold, looking a little disappointed.

“Well,” said Jefferson. “I did not see that coming.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

No one said anything at first, leaving Rumpelstiltskin to stare from one girl to the other, at a loss. Belle had her eyes on the floor, and Lacey was doing her best not to look too angry at how their meeting had turned out. Even Sir Gold seemed a little taken aback.

“Are you sure about your choice, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, throwing a longing look at the other sister – the one who was eager to learn and who could conjure fire just as easily as she could make a simple cup of tea. “Once they leave, you cannot change your mind.”

“I will not change my mind,” Belle said, resolute. “I wish to learn from you.”

“And what a student you shall be, Belle,” Jefferson said. He was smiling, probably amused by the shock on their faces.

“Yes... I suppose,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

No one in the room looked particularly happy about Belle's decision, but Rumpelstiltskin felt especially frustrated. They still had no idea what these girls would have to do to win their bet but he wasn't holding his breath about his new student. She seemed ready to break at any moment.

“Then say goodbye to your sister,” he told her. “You won't be seeing each other for a year.”

“You can write to each other, of course,” Jefferson said, coming up with such permission on the spot before either man could disagree. “And one year will come and go in the blink of an eye.”

“We'll give you a moment,” Gold said. “You take your time.”

Gold and Jefferson started for the door. Rumpelstiltskin didn't move.

“Rumpelstiltskin!” Gold snapped.

“It's my castle.”

“Rumple, will you please?” Jefferson asked, sensing that Gold's temper was at its end.

The Dark One rolled his eyes, “Yes, fine, say your tearful farewells,” and exited through a door on the opposite side, leaving both women alone.

 

 

Lacey paced away from Belle, looking at the great room they were in, with the heavy curtains and the curious trinkets – most of them thrown to the floor. Lacey had spent their few moments alone analyzing them, wondering what they did and whether or not Rumpelstiltskin would use them to teach her. Belle hadn't displayed the same curiosity, the whole affair feeling too overwhelming for her to smile at all.

Now, she didn't know what to say to her sister, and Lacey didn't seem interested in listening.

“I'll write to you,” Belle promised. Seemed as good a place to start as any.

“It doesn't matter,” Lacey said, not even looking at her.

Belle sighed. “Lacey, Sir Gold is a skilled sorcerer. You can learn much from him.”

Again, Lacey didn't look at her, instead staring at the walls and the greatness of that room. Belle knew that she didn't want to leave the Dark Castle, that she'd come here with one goal in mind and one alone, and now she'd deprived her from it.

“I'm sorry, Lacey, but I couldn't go with him,” Belle said. “I can't bare to look at him.”

“I said it doesn't matter,” Lacey repeated, though it was clear by her tone that it did matter, very much so. “What's done is done. I'm not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Being mad won't change anything. You won this fairly.”

Belle didn't know how to say that none of this felt like a victory and that all she wanted was to go back home, but any way it came to her mind, it felt like she was whining. Lacey wouldn't take it well if Belle not only got to choose the best teacher, but also dared to complain about it because of old wounds.

“Lacey-”

“I love you, Belle,” her sister said, unprompted. “But you know you've made the wrong decision and that affects me too. I won't pretend I'm happy about it just so you can feel better.”

“There is no right decision here, Lacey. They're using us to settle a score.”

“Yes, but at least I'll try to make the best out of it,” Lacey said. “Feel free to mope around in your castle.”

Belle opened her mouth to say, “This isn't _my_ castle,” but Lacey was gone before she had the chance.

“She's right, you know?”

Belle turned around. Rumpelstiltskin had come back into the room.

“Right about what?”

“You should've gone with Sir Boastful.”

That didn't surprise her in the least. He'd seemed just as disappointed as Lacey that he'd be saddled with the less impressive twin.

“You shouldn't eavesdrop,” Belle said, drying her eyes before she could spill any more tears. “It's not polite.”

“So I've heard. What is your past with the Light One?”

“I don't have a past with him.”

Rumpelstiltskin watched her, narrowing his eyes.

“You haven't slept with him,” he said, making Belle stare at him, bothered for the first time. “He doesn't do that sort of thing. And I'm sure he refused any sort of payment your father has offered him, so it can't be the burden of gratitude. I do wonder-”

“Wonder all you wish. Will we start my lessons now?”

She saw him pause and consider for a moment. It was evident on his face that she'd gotten him curious but it must have been just as evident on hers that she wasn't going to give him a straight answer tonight. He said, “We'll start in the morning. Come with me.”

“Where to?”

“I'm taking you to your accommodations. You are to live here for a year, after all.”

One year. That sounded like an impossible amount of time, especially if she were to spend it here. As she carried her bag down a long corridor, Belle found it hard to imagine living in such a dark and cold place. Their home in Avonlea had always been warm, even in the winter time, and it'd never made her feel this trapped or limited. Even though the Dark Castle was undeniably huge, there was a stuffy feeling to it, as though the air didn't move at all and the walls were closing in.

The more they walked through endless halls and staircases that seemed to lead to nowhere, the colder it became and Belle realized she was being taken down into the dungeons.

Rumpelstiltskin stopped in front of an empty cell and waved a hand at it, the door creaking open.

“Here we are,” he announced, with a terrible smile. “Your room.”

“My room?” she repeated, outraged.

“It's a better word than dungeon, isn't it?”

Before she had the chance to protest, he pushed her inside. Belle squealed and by the time she managed to regain balance and turn around, the door had been closed.

“You can't just leave me here!” she said, through the door, slamming her fist on it.

His cackling voice answered, “Don't worry, dearie, you may leave this cell at any time. It shouldn't take you more than a simple spell to unlock the door.”

Belle looked at the rusty lock. She'd never used such a spell before and somehow she didn't think her little tricks would get her anywhere.

“I told you, I haven't used my magic in a year,” she said.

“No time like the present to pick up old habits. I'll leave you to it.”

She heard his boots walking away.

“You can't just bully me into using magic!” Belle shouted after him.

Rumpelstiltskin snickered down the hallway. “Just watch me, dearie.”

 

 

“May I take your hand?” Sir Gold asked once they were outside.

“Why?”

“So that I can take you home. It's easier than by carriage.”

“You mean you don't ride your stallion everywhere?” Lacey asked, with a little smirk.

Gold smiled back. “It's a long trip. Philippe gets restless.”

Lacey looked at Jefferson.

“I'm taking the carriage,” he said. “Traveling by cloud doesn't agree with me. But go on.”

Lacey stepped up to give him a parting hug. It was only then that she realized she hadn't hugged Belle at all. As angry as she might be, the thought of it made her feel guilty and little sad. In the end, she was still going to apprentice with Sir Gold, even if he hadn't been his first choice, perhaps she should've spared her a kinder word before parting ways.

Besides, they wouldn't see each other for a year. That was a long time. Although, given how they'd barely spoken to each other the last few months, a little distance might be welcomed. It sure wouldn't make things worse.

“Will you make sure he's not too cruel to Belle?” Lacey asked.

“Rumpelstiltskin? He's a lot softer than people give him credit for, trust me.”

Sir Gold scoffed.

Jefferson said, “But, yes, I'll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you, old friend.”

Once Jefferson was in the carriage and waving away, Lacey took Gold's hand.

“Have you ever moved around by magic before?” he asked.

“I haven't.”

“It can be a little disorienting at first.”

Lacey tried to ask what he meant by that but, suddenly, she was standing in the middle of a field.

For a moment, her mind went dizzy and she couldn't understand where she was. It was like waking up in someone else's bed while expecting to see your room. Then, slowly, the world came into focus. They had traveled several miles in just the blink of an eye because the weather was still chilly, but it wasn't snowing anymore.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“My home.”

“No, I mean, where _in the world_ are we?”

Sir Gold looked around, clearly not used to being asked that question. He probably didn't bring a lot of visitors.

“North is behind you,” he said, letting go of her hand to point. “We just came from there. Avonlea is a several-days travel in that direction. We're close to Queen Snow White's kingdom, but this land belongs to no one except me. I don't want to show favoritism among the rulers. There is a village down that road, though I don't go there often.”

Lacey nodded, her world coming back together.

“That was a fantastic spell,” she said.

“Oh... thank you.”

“Will you teach me?”

“Eventually, yes.”

“When?”

“It's a complex spell. I'd hate for you to split yourself in two on your first night.”

That didn't scare her at all. If anything, it made her more eager to ask questions.

“So it's a dangerous spell.”

“Only if you don't know what you're doing. Come in.”

With his golden armor and flashy stallion, Lacey had assumed that the Light One lived in a palace just as magnificent as his darker half's, but they were standing in front of a humble cottage. Beyond it, she could see a stable and, peppered around the house, there were a dozen snoring sheep, fluffy and white.

“I didn't take you for a farmer,” she said.

“I'm not. But the sheep can be good company.”

Compared to Rumpelstiltskin's home, the cottage looked very modest but it was clean and spacious. Sir Gold lit the candles with a wave of his hand.

“Would you like to eat, milady?”

“I'd like to learn.”

“You have a year to learn.”

“And not a moment to lose.”

She didn't think Rumpelstiltskin would be wasting much time with Belle. They were probably working as she stood around, chatting.

“We'll begin in the morning, after you've had your breakfast,” Gold promised her. “You may take the bedroom tonight, we will get you something more proper once you're well-rested.”

“I'm not tired.”

That made him smile. “Yes, you are. It was a long trip. You won't be at a disadvantage if we begin in the morning.”

“And what will you teach me first?”

Gold thought.

“Before I knew you and your sister were coming,” he said, “I thought we'd take the first month to review theory. But as I recall, you were never very patient with books.”

“True.”

“And you'll probably be bored within the hour if I tell you to practice lessons from a book. I've seen you lift fallen trees from the roads.”

Lacey felt very satisfied with that small recognition. The few days they'd spent in battle together, she had tried very hard to impress him with her magic, to the point that she sometimes overdid it.

She remembered that particular case, when they'd come into ogre territory in the middle of heavy rain and lightning. It had been hard enough to convince Sir Gold to let her and her man accompany him so far. Knowing that he'd tell them to turn around and leave at any moment, she'd taken the only opportunity that presented itself: a bunch of fallen trees blocking their way. There were more efficient ways to do it, but she threw them over their heads and into the forest in a single wave of magic. It had left her exhausted but it'd definitely gotten his attention.

Later that evening, he'd asked her aside and Lacey dared to be hopeful that she'd impressed the Light One. Instead, he told her that he didn't take students, and then left her and her men behind to face the ogres on his own. By the time they caught up, the war was over.

“Then what will my first lesson be?” Lacey asked.

“To be patient and to allow yourself to rest,” Gold said, opening the bedroom door.

Lacey sighed. “I told you once that I don't need to be protected.”

“But you came to be taught. Do as your teacher says.”

It didn't make her happy, but Lacey complied. There was no point in stirring up an argument now. She could rest tonight.

Tomorrow, it would be a whole different story.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to apologize to my giftee for not having this done in time. Real life got in the way and messed up my schedule but the first draft of this story is done and I should post the remaining chapters over the next couple of days.


	5. Chapter 5

As midnight approached, the cell got colder and Belle could hear the wind whistling outside. The cot she was given was uncomfortable and the blankets were barely adequate to fight the winter chill. Most of all, she was hungry and the Dark One didn't bother to bring her food or water. She missed her home and her father, the comfort of her own bed and the company of her many books.

Yet, she didn't use magic. She wasn't even tempted. She cuddled with her coat and her blankets on the cot and took one of the books she'd brought with her out of her bag. She read under the faltering light of a torch until her eyes became too tired and her thoughts were filled with so many wonderful things that there was no room in her mind for the cold or the hunger.

Before she fell asleep, she thought of Lacey and the way she'd walked away from her without so much as a goodbye. Hopefully, her sister's circumstances were better than her own.

Morning came and she was woken up by the sound of the door, as it opened to allow a breakfast trolley to roll into the cell. Belle jumped to her feet, her stomach rumbling. She'd feared the Dark One might try to starve her into obedience but he'd been rather generous with the food, placing large portions of bread, fruit, oatmeal, and orange juice on the trolley.

Perhaps they'd started off on the wrong foot. Perhaps they could sit down and talk and find a way to make this work.

Along with her breakfast, there was a wrinkled old map of the castle, which was a relief. Belle didn't think she could retrace her steps in a place this big. Once she was done eating, she slipped back into her shoes and set out to find the red dot on the map, assuming that was where he wanted her to go.

Belle climbed a long staircase-

And then the map changed. Not her destination, mind you. The entire map. The staircase was still right behind her, but the three rooms to her right had suddenly become five and the corridor at the end of the hall had become a wall.

The red dot didn't budge.

Just to make sure, she went to the end of the hall and confirmed that the corridor she was supposed to take was gone, so Belle went back to the dungeon and started all over again.

This time, she'd been walking for twenty minutes before the map changed again, turning a door into a staircase and forcing her to retrace her steps once again.

After the third time it happened, Belle groaned loudly in the empty corridor, “You wicked man!”

Something itched at her fingertips and Belle wasn't sure if it was magic or just the urge to throw something at a wall but it was growing with her frustration. So she did the only thing that was sure to get Rumpelstiltskin's attention: she went back to her cell and waited. There were a good number of books in her bag and she had a lot of time to kill.

About an hour later, Rumpelstiltskin must have grown tired of waiting because he came to find her. Belle made sure to keep her eyes on the page she was reading until he was standing in front of her. He cleared his throat.

“You haven't started your chores yet,” he said, not even wishing her a good morning first.

“What chores?” she asked, peacefully.

“I've left you a list of chores that were to be done today.”

“Where?”

“In the kitchen.”

“I couldn't find the kitchen. In fact, I couldn't find anything because the map you've given me was faulty.”

“It wasn't _faulty_ , it was _enchanted_. Surely you haven't entirely forgotten what magic looks like in a year.”

He looked angry. Belle knew it would be wiser to feel scared but she only felt victorious.

“You cannot force me to use my magic,” she said.

“Did you expect me to sit you down and teach you from a book?” he asked. “From what I've heard, you used to do much more than just unlocking doors or fixing enchanted parchment.”

“But I don't anymore. If you wish to teach me, then perhaps you should talk to me, instead of locking me away in a freezing dungeon and wasting my time with your games, trying to annoy me into doing it.”

Rumpelstiltskin growled and looked ready to storm out of the cell, probably slamming the door in the process and leaving her down there to rot. Belle didn't bat an eye at the thought.

“You wish to start slowly?” he asked. “Very well. I'll give you a map that isn't _faulty_. Then, you can get started on your chores.”

“And what would my chores be?”

He waved his hand. A long piece of parchment rolled down to his knees.

“There, nothing that will offend your delicate sensibilities.”

Belle didn't appreciate being called “delicate” but she swallowed the acid reply and read the long list. It was fairly straightforward but the items on it were numerous. Her new teacher expected her to be responsible for all the cooking, the mopping, the sweeping, the dusting... she was expected to shovel the snow out of the way in the winter, and then tend to the plants during the spring. The linens were to be cleaned every week, but she should clean the linens of all seventeen bedrooms.

“This is thorough,” was all that she said. “And when am I to have time for my lessons?”

“These will be your lessons. I expect you to use magic.”

“To clean your castle?”

He glared at her with a little impatience and this time, she couldn't blame him. She shouldn't sound so... underwhelmed, especially when she had no idea what to expect.

“Cleaning is a good place to start,” Belle said.

“Then get started on the sweeping,” Rumpelstiltskin said, his voice resolute as he turned to leave. “You're already falling behind.”

“I wouldn't have fallen behind if I had a working map,” Belle protested, her voice following him out of the dungeon.

 

 

The last time Belle used her magic, she'd made her mother laugh. By comparison, laughter was a small blessing in a war, especially considering what Lacey was doing, but Maurice and Colette insisted that people needed moments like that to give them hope and to remind them of better days. So that night, like every night before, they gathered outside the infirmary that her mother had sat up in their castle. Belle read from one of her books by the fire, left hand turning pages while her right hand wrapped smoke around her fingers, drawing characters and castles and gigantic spiders in the air. Then, as the story came to an end, she asked one of the wounded soldiers to blow the smoke away.

People had applauded and her mother had looked so proud.

It was hard to believe that there was once a time when magic came to her so easily. Right now, she wasn't sure of what to do. She remembered what it was like to play with smoke, that was all about imagination and letting yourself be taken by a story. She also remembered what it was like to rebuild a house, which demanded a lot of concentration. And then there was healing, which was something else entirely and came from a place deep in her heart, a desire to protect. Cleaning, though... it was so trivial that Belle had no idea where to start.

From the first time she opened a book about magic, Belle had learned that the vibration she felt underneath her skin was not so much connected to her rationality but to her emotions. That was what every book said.

Belle took a deep breath and held up her hands at the broom in the corner of the kitchen, covered in cobwebs and clearly going unused for years. How to apply this to something as simple as a broom? Perhaps it was like lifting a rock, she'd focus on the task, imagine the weight of it, the feel of it in her hands, and then forget all she ever knew about physics and about herself because she was much more powerful than anyone gave her credit for. Because stone meant nothing when you had magic and, suddenly, she'd _feel_ powerful and she'd _believe_ it, and the rock would move.

“Sweep,” she whispered under her breath.

Something dormant inside of her pulsed – like a heartbeat, but faster. Then it went quiet again.

“C'mon, you silly broom,” Belle said, hands outstretched. “I've moved bigger things than you.”

Nothing.

Screwing her eyes shut, Belle tried to block out the wind and the crackling of the fire, her mind turning back to that one word: _move_.

Her fingers began to shake.

The broom stood upright.

And then it fell flat on the floor, where it lied perfectly still.

“I suppose that's a start,” Belle said, though she wasn't feeling very optimistic.

 

 

It was three days before Belle realized two things. One, her magic was not going to return in the blink of an eye as if it'd never left. Two, Rumpelstiltskin wasn't going to help her. And while the first was to be expected, the latter frustrated her immensely.

It might have been too much to expect the Dark one to be anything by cunning, or even to hope that he might want to work together with her, but she still felt abandoned in his castle as she struggled to get her powers back into form. So far, she'd managed to get a feather duster to lazily roll itself over a table, and the blasted broom to jump hop around the room, neither of which was very effective at cleaning. As far as housework went, her magic wasn't exactly fit for the job.

She even dared to experiment some of her old tricks, having more success with those. After an hour of focusing her mind, she managed to turn a teacup into a little, shiny bird whose wings looked like fine porcelain. It was too heavy to fly but it was a start. She'd been so proud that she'd rushed up to Rumpelstiltskin's tower to show him.

He'd taken one look at the porcelain bird, chirping in her hands, and said, “How is this going to help you clean?”

He wasn't very supportive. It seemed that he only ever came to her to point out what she was doing wrong or that her chores were running late once again.

“As a teacher, I thought you'd at least try to teach me,” Belle told him, after he came to tell her, rather furiously, that her hopping broom had wandered into his study and was making a mess.

“If you spent less time making teacup birds-”

“Oh good grief, I made _one_ teacup bird! And perhaps if you gave me less chores and more _actual lessons_ it would be easier to focus on my magic.”

There was always something to do in the Dark Castle and it all befell upon her shoulders. There were corridors that had never been opened before, with dirt and dust inches thick, and it was now her responsibility to clean them. She doubted that there was anyone else living in there, or that the Dark One received many visitors, but her teacher still expected her to keep all bedrooms clean, with fresh linens that she washed in cold water. Her soft hands, that were used to the pages of books, were now turning callous from work.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't give her a better room to sleep in, though she'd smuggled pillows and blankets down to the dungeon, plus any books on magic that she might find lying around. He hadn't caught her yet, so Belle didn't see the point in asking for his permission. Her damp and cold cell was not a home, far from it, but it was becoming less horrid. Besides, she'd slept in rougher places during the war, when she'd been on call in the infirmary, being given nothing but a corner to lie in when exhaustion got the best of her. At least in here, no one would scream or wake her up in the middle of the night to try and save a soldiers' life or limb.

On the evening of the fifth day, Belle went into the kitchen to get the tea, coughing quietly into a handkerchief. Last night had been the coldest so far and she'd been feeling sick since the morning. As soon as the tea was served, she'd go back to the kitchen to stay near the fire and continue to practice from there, but there were no logs to even make a fire with so she came upstairs empty-handed.

“The tea will be late,” she said, covering a cough with a hand.

“That is unacceptable,” Rumpelstiltskin said, sitting at the spinning wheel he was so fond of. Despite having his back to her, Belle would've swear that there was a smirk on his face.

“Whether it is acceptable or not, it doesn't matter. I need to go get more wood to make the fire.”

“You should've done that yesterday.”

“I did. They seem to have been misplaced.”

She looked accusingly at him.

He looked back at her, cynical as ever. “Imagine that. You should've been more careful.”

He was taunting her but she wasn't going to bite. Lacey used to do the same when they were little girls and Belle hadn't given in to anger then, either.

“I just came to warn you. Do with that as you will.”

She turned to leave but he stopped her, “So you'd rather go outside, in the snow and with a cold, to get splinters in your hands, instead of taking the easy way out?”

He was standing now. Just like Sir Gold, he wasn't a large man, perhaps even less intimidating than the Light One in his shiny golden armor. Belle knew that there was a reason why people feared him but, for some reason, she didn't.

“I was never afraid of hard work,” she said.

“Still, it's terribly unpleasant. Here.”

He swished his hands, as if throwing something at her. A purple teapot showed up in midair and Belle had to move fast to catch it before it hit the ground. Once it was secure in her hands, Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers and she could feel it being filled with water.

“There you go,” he said. “Now make it boil.”

“I tried,” she said. “I've been trying to make it boil for days now but I can barely make it bubble.”

“Try again.”

“Perhaps if you explained to me what I'm supposed to do-”

“You performed healing spells but you have trouble with something this simple?”

“This is different, I didn't have to-”

“Besides, you're already late.”

“You made me late by hiding the wood I'd chopped yesterday. This is your fault.”

“I am your teacher. This is why you came to me, isn't it?”

“I've learned nothing from you whatsoever.”

“You refuse to even try.”

“And you refuse to listen!” she snapped, hands tight around the teapot. Her fingers felt stiff from all the work she'd done in five days. “I've come to you with questions and all you've done is point out how inadequate I am.”

“You chose me as your teacher.”

Belle wanted to argue but couldn't, not without giving up too much of herself, and that man didn't deserve her honesty. She hadn't chosen him, she'd chosen _not_ to go with Sir Gold. In a way, this creature's cruelty was easier to bear than the other man's kindness.

“Your sister will be learning much more than dusting and cooking with him,” said Rumpelstiltskin. “She'll become a real sorceress under his guidance. Do you expect me to make you my maid?”

“I expected you,” she said, gritting her teeth, “not to be the beast everyone takes you for.”

“People's assessment is usually right, and you should listen to them more often.”

“Perhaps I should. You were willing to ruin my kingdom in exchange for common decency.”

He frowned, at a loss. That, more than anything else, got under her skin.

“We asked you to stop the ogres, you demanded half of our crops as your fee!”

“Yes, of course. So many deals, I've made. They all blend in, after a while.”

She huffed, feeling like she could snap that teapot in half and spend the rest of her night picking porcelain pieces off her hands.

“Are you really so heartless?” she asked.

She saw him lower his eyes to the teapot, in a moment of what she hoped would be shame, but then he said, “Yes. I am this heartless.”

“My people died!” she all but shouted. “My sister, the war consumed her! And my mother-”

Belle shouted in pain and barely had enough time to drop the teapot on the table. It thumped twice, then it stood still, hot smoke coming out of it.

Rumpelstiltskin clapped his hands.

“Now, _that_ is progress!”

Belle stared at the teapot through her tears.

Rumpelstiltskin came closer and could only touch it for a second before letting go.

“You've boiled it. Isn't that much easier than chopping wood?”

“You tricked me,” Belle said, just as shocked as she was offended.

“Yes, yes, how tragic, you boiled water,” he said, dismissive, sitting back down.

“No, you _tricked_ me,” Belle insisted. “You could've taught me that, but you didn't.”

“My way is faster. Now, go fetch the tea, and don't forget the biscuits.”

“You can fetch you own biscuits!”

She stormed out.

 

 

On the eighth morning, Belle woke up with a sore throat and the fading memory of a nightmare. Not a horrible one, something about the ogres, she could hear them grunting and dragging their feet on the floor. She couldn't be sure but she thought she'd dreamed of her mother as well. Someone had been screaming, or so she thought, and their pitch had been similar to Colette's.

Getting out of bed was always harder after a bad dream, like her bed acquired a terrible pull over her, but she dragged herself out of the cell like every morning before, clutching a shawl around her shoulders. A little bit of tea would do her throat and her nerves some good.

Belle knew that the Dark One would've come up with some exhausting, pointless tasks for her today. Ever since she'd accidentally boiled water, he'd been pushing her with increasingly difficult or daunting chores. Belle, on the other hand, had stopped using magic altogether, no matter how angry that made her teacher – sometimes, she refuse to do the chores as well.

Just the day before, he'd tried to make her shovel the snow, despite the fact that she'd been running a fever.

“If you fancy magic so much, why don't you do it yourself?” she'd snapped, not even looking up from the pots she was washing.

Rumpelstiltskin had narrowed his eyes and a lesser woman might have cowered in fear. Belle was too angry to be afraid, though.

“Must I remind you that you are my student and you are to do as I say?”

“Your orders are pointless and they will do nothing but make me sicker. But if you don't like it, you're more than welcome to send me back home.”

He'd growled at her, then ordered her to polish the silverware instead.

“All of this potential,” he'd told her, just before she retired to her cell, “and you're wasting it on silly tricks.”

He'd probably be in a terrible mood this morning. However, she found that Rumpelstiltskin was gone for the day, another long list of chores left in his place at the table. There were several items in it but none of them out of the ordinary.

As she worked, Belle found that it was easier to do her chores without Rumpelstiltskin popping out of nowhere to criticize her. She even dared to use magic again and the results were still limited but encouraging – the broom was now sliding over the floor, bouncing from one wall to the other, making it _almost_ helpful.

As the day came to a close, she sat by the fire in kitchen and opened one of the books she'd brought from home. Studying one of Rumpelstiltskin's tomes on magic might have been more productive but, right now, she needed this book. She always read it in times of trouble and it never failed to remind her to be brave.

She was so caught up in the story she was reading that she didn't realize Rumpelstiltskin was back until he said, “Taking it easy today, I see.”

“Not at all, my chores are done,” Belle said. “Will you deny me a cup of tea?”

Suspicious as ever, he checked the items on the list he'd left behind.

“Yes, very well,” he granted, “though you still haven't cleared the snow.”

“I know,” she answered. “As I believe I told you yesterday, I have a cold and I refuse to go outside. Unless you'd rather have a sick student for the next couple of weeks.”

“I'd rather have a student who actually uses her magic, but instead I have you.”

With a wave of his hand, the book disappeared from her lap and reappeared in his hand.

“What is this silliness you read?” he asked, flipping he pages dismissively, then reading the title. “ _Her Handsome Hero_?”

“Give it back!” she said, getting to her feet and reaching for the book.

It was perhaps the worse thing she might have done because Rumpelstiltskin kept it out of her reach and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.

“Oh, it's a special thing,” he said. “Something you brought from home?”

“It was my mother's.”

“A hero's story, yes? With villains and witches and monsters to slay? A noble quest, perhaps? It will do you no good to read this ridiculousness.”

“I will read whatever I please, now hand it back.”

“Books like this are the reason people hate magic.”

“If I hate magic, it is because of beasts like you.”

The little amusement that she could see in the corners of his mouth disappeared. Suddenly, this wasn't a game anymore.

“You are my student, you should read about sorcery while you're in my care.”

“You shouldn't call it care.”

“My apprenticeship, then. Books that will advance your mind and not hold you back.”

“My books don't hold me back and I said I want it back.”

She leaped for it but he dodged her grasp.

“This is good for nothing,” he said, “except perhaps to feed the fire.”

Unceremoniously, he threw it in the fireplace, where the flames were bright and warm and would burn the book to ashes in a matter of seconds.

Belle shouted, “No!” her hands outstretched as though she could reach the book, no matter that she was several feet away.

However, it didn't matter. The book was floating now, inches above the flames, just out of their reach.

Belle panted, her heart racing.

Rumpelstiltskin snickered.

“ _That_ was some really good work! I wonder what else you can do when you're angry.”

“What else I can do?” she panted.

Without even thinking, she waved her hands up quickly. The books came flying back to Rumpelstiltskin, hitting him hard on the face.

“Ow!” he said, shocked and almost losing his balance.

In his almost two centuries of life, he'd been attacked by a fair amount of heroes, sorcerers and pirates, but never by a tiny, cheeky girl who was, of all things, trying to protect an old book.

“That hurt!” he protested, somewhat like a child.

“It was supposed to hurt!” Belle shouted, collecting her book from the floor and hugging it with both hands. “This is my mother's book, all I have left of her, and you almost destroyed it!”

“But I didn't.”

“Because I stopped you!”

“Yes, you did. Using magic. Beautifully, if I might add.”

“If you want me to use magic, then you should teach me how to-”

Belle stopped, suddenly coming a realization.

“You're trying to make me angry.”

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his cheek and didn't answer.

“You are! You don't want me to just use magic, you want me to use _dark_ magic.”

“Dark magic is a rather judgmental term,” he said. “I prefer to think of it as gray. You saved your book, didn't you? I'd say that is a noble cause, even if you did it out of anger. Hitting me on the face, though, that definitely strays further away from light magic.”

Belle felt her hands squeezing the book like she'd done the teapot, the tips of her fingers burning. She had to calm down, last she'd set fire to the book. Or do something much, much worse.

“I do not want this,” she said. “Lacey won't learn such things and neither should I.”

“Let me tell you what will happen to your sister,” said the Dark One, taking a step closer. Standing this close to the fireplace, his face was half-covered in sinister shadows. “That buffoon is going to teach her moral tales of light magic and how power isn't everything, and she will grow tired and bored of his morals. She will then learn to use her powers on her own, in any way that suits her better. Your sister, unlike you, has great potential for darkness, and she's not afraid of it. In fact, she welcomes it. If you walk into this quest, duel, or whatever it might be, armed with nothing but good intentions and teacup birds, she will turn you into dust and I will be exiled into another realm.”

“You should be exiled.”

He rolled his eyes. “Because I almost burned your mother's book?”

“Because this land is no place for a beast who doesn't understand a parent's love.”

That seemed to get under his skin.

“Mind what you're saying, girl,” he warned her.

Belle ignored him.

“I knew this was a mistake. I thought that perhaps I might learn something from you but I was foolish to be so hopeful. All you want is to use my magic for your own selfish reasons.”

“Where are you going?” he demanded, as she walked away.

“Packing.”

“Are you under the illusion that you can leave any time you like?”

Belle stopped on her tracks.

“You and your sister have agreed to this. You both belong to us for a year and you will do as you're told.”

Suddenly, Belle had come so close to him that Rumpelstiltskin had to take a step back.

“If you wish to trap me in here, very well,” she said, her voice as cold as ice. “I will sit in my cell, day after day, night after night, and I will not move. I won't learn from you, I won't do my chores, I won't so much as acknowledge your presence. You may try to starve me, it won't matter. You want to hurt me? I will bleed out before you can break me. And when the quest comes, if I survive that long, I will sit on the ground and I will do nothing, no matter what you threaten me with. I will let Lacey win and Jefferson will take you as far away from this land as he can.”

Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, trying to find out if she was being serious. She was. Very much so.

“You thought you were lashed to the weak sister? That you could bully me?” Belle demanded. “I've seen far worse things than a cowardly, bitter man such as yourself.”

“You will disappoint your sister,” he tried.

“Lacey will be better off without this. I will pack and you will take me to her.”

“Will I?”

“Unless you wish to live in exile for the rest of your days.”

A heavy silence followed that threat.

Then, he said, “I'm not a coward, not anymore.”

“Will you take me to her or not?”

He looked angry but he still took a step back and kept his voice neutral when he said, “There's no point in having a student who does not wish to learn. I'll take you to our sister and Jefferson will find us someone else. You can go home to your parents. Or rather, _parent_.”

More than before, fire burned at the tips of her fingers, but she swallowed her anger. She was almost free, as long as she didn't take the bait. Without another word, she went back to the dungeon and began to pack.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Despite his immense power, the Light One seemed to lead a simple life, though still a comfortable one. Perhaps she'd have been given a better room in the Dark Castle but Lacey was not about to complain.

She woke up on her first day as his pupil at the break of dawn, eager to learn. She got dressed quickly and met him in the kitchen, where he'd already put together a small breakfast. It was the first time she saw him without his golden armor, which made him look a lot less imposing. There was no denying that Rumpelstiltskin was a powerful sorcerer, it was written on his skin and in his manic eyes, but Sir Gold could easily pass for a regular man if he so wished.

“Am I here to be taught, or spoiled?” she asked, as he poured milk into a glass for her.

“You are a lady. I assume you're used to a certain lifestyle.”

He was a charming man, that much she had to give him, but he continued to be quiet and private. As they ate together, he didn't initiate conversation and, after a few bites, Lacey was the one who said, “I thought about my lessons last night.”

“So did I,” he said.

“There was something I always wanted to do that I thought perhaps you could teach me.”

“Yes?”

“I'd like to learn how to stop a river.”

He stared at her, his expression hard to read.

“During the war, that would've been a powerful asset,” she explained. “If I could've cut the water supply of the ogres, then they would've moved away. I never did manage to get that right, though. I tried building a den but it didn't go as well as planned.”

“To stop a river is a very complicated task. It demands a lot of power.”

“I have power.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, without actually giving her an answer.

“You don't think I can do it,” Lacey said, ready to prove him wrong if necessary.

“I don't know what you're capable of yet.”

“You've seen me in battle.”

“This isn't a battle.”

“It can be, eventually. What if the task you ask of us is to go into a land of ogres where we'll have to-”

“That won't happen. Jefferson will be the one choosing your task and he agrees with me that you've seen enough ogres for a lifetime.”

Lacey looked at him from across the table. “We've talked about this.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You're protecting me.”

“I'm sparing you, there's a difference.”

“Is that what you thought you were doing and you forbade me from joining you in battle?”

“No one denies that you fought valiantly.”

Lacey wanted to say that no one even remembered her name, or the names of her men, when they thought back to the Ogres' War. All she ever heard was how Sir Gold had valiantly and single-handedly saved Avonlea from the ogres' wrath. The months she'd spent at the front, the battles, the death, none of this mattered. Even father seemed more than willing to pretend those months of constant worry over his daughter's well being had never happened and expected everything to go back to the way it was.

It might be unfair to bring these things up, though. Sir Gold had no control over the way people told his story and it would do her no good to start this off with a fight.

“What I mean,” she said, restrained, “is that it was my right to finish the war. It was my land that they devastated, my men that they killed.”

He didn't say anything and didn't look her in the eye.

“Very well,” she said, after a moment of silence, “if you won't teach me how to stop a river, what will I do?”

“I'm not-” Gold started but he was interrupted by a soft tapping at the window. There was a white dove, asking to be let inside. He sighed. “What now...”

There was a note tied to its leg. Was it from Belle? It was just like her to write letters on the first day, specially after their last exchange. She probably wanted to make sure Lacey was alright and that she wasn't mad anymore.

Judging by Gold's expression when he read it, the note hadn't come from Belle.

He let the dove go and said, “I have to go.”

Lacey shot to her feet and followed him to the living room. With a snap of his fingers, he was once again wearing his golden armor, ready for battle.

“What, now?” she asked.

“Yes, now.”

“Why?”

“Something came up.”

“What?”

“Something important.”

“Can I go with you?”

“No, you have a lesson to learn.”

“If the lesson is that I should be obedient and stay put when other people tell me to, I should tell you now, my father tried to teach me that and it didn't really stick.”

Gold took his sword and then looked at her, ready to argue. Then, probably realizing Lacey wouldn't listen anyway, he looked around the living room, clearly trying to improvise.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Will I ride with you?”

“You're not coming. I have a task for you.”

Once outside, he pointed at the field upon which they had arrived the night before.

“There, this is where you'll stay,” he told her.

“What? Standing on my feet until you come back?”

“No, I want you to show me what you know. You will build yourself a home, a place where you can live for a year. It's not proper for us to share accommodations.”

“Build a home?” she repeated. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Lacey followed him into the stable.

“What kind of house?” she asked as he saddled his horse.

“A hut will do.”

“A _hut_?”

“It's up to you. You're the one who will live there.”

Lacey still didn't like the sound of it. The task seemed rather daunting.

“Unless you think it's too complicated,” he said, and she knew that he was taunting her ego but she took the bait anyway.

“As you wish. I'll build a magnificent home.”

“'Hut' was the word I used. There's no need to overdo it.”

Lacey chuckled. “You're dressed in golden armor and you're afraid _I_ might overdo it?”

Gold had a smirk on his face when he mounted his horse.

“There's food in the house, in case you're hungry,” he told her. “And you may take whatever you need from it.”

“And when will you be back.”

“As soon as I can.”

Before Lacey could press, he kicked his heels to the horse's flanks and it took off.

 

 

Sir Gold didn't return for three days, which Lacey found extremely annoying. Three days of training completely wasted. She could've used that to advance her skills and prepare herself for the great quest that was to come.

Instead, she was using her magic to break rocks and uproot trees.

As the first day went by, she still tried to keep a positive attitude and do as she was asked. Sir Gold might have asked her to do something dull and repetitive, but it was more challenging than she'd first anticipated. Building something from the ground up was a lot harder than putting a home back together after the ogres had destroyed it. However, by nightfall, she'd made a small cottage, something as simple as Sir Gold's. She could've made it more suiting to her tastes but it was good to show that she could follow orders as well.

On the second day, her wish to show herself as a good, obedient student faded as her frustration grew and she added another room to the back of the cottage, both out of boredom and defiance.

And then she added a second floor altogether.

And then she got a little creative with the decorations.

On the third day, her anger had shifted from Sir Gold to Belle because there was no way that Rumpelstiltskin would be wasting precious time on something as vital as this. And if Rumpelstiltskin was taking this seriously, then Belle might actually surpass her by the end of the year. Refusing to sit still, Lacey went back to Sir Gold's home and perused through his books, looking for unusual titles. She'd never been very good with books but she had to start somewhere.

Much like Belle, he seemed to favor stories about heroes and romance novels, and there were volumes written in languages she didn't know.

“He was meant to be your teacher, Belle,” Lacey whispered, bitterly.

There were very old tomes on magical properties, potions and curses that made her sleepy, and if they had valuable information that she didn't already know, she lost interest long before getting to that part. The book called _Magic and Ethics_ , though, she found rather fascinating.

Once she was done with his books, she decided to go through his drawers and cabinets, imagining how horrified her father would've been if he only knew. That was, however, a disappointing endeavor. Sir Gold not only lived modestly, he also had a boring life with no embarrassing or horrifying secrets. Lacey gave up her snooping before she even got to the bedroom and went to sleep early.

She woke up around midnight with the sound of his horse right under her window.

“Be quiet,” she heard Sir Gold say. “You'll wake her up.”

Lacey jumped out of bed and opened the window just in time to see Gold and his horse disappear into the stable, so she put on a robe and her boots and darted after them.

She found him brushing his stallion clean. There was a deep cut on the horse's leg that was clearly making him restless but the bleeding seemed to have stopped. Honestly, Gold looked like he needed a shower just as much as his horse. His golden armor, pristine just three days prior, was now covered in mud and left in a corner. Gold stood in his trousers and a white shirt that were just as filthy and bloody as his horse.

“Wherever you were,” Lacey said, making him turn, “it seems that you were having more fun than I was.”

He eyed her in her robe and boots, then went back to brushing his horse.

“There was trouble in King Stephen's land,” he said.

“What sort of trouble?”

“A dragon.”

“A dragon? That sounds exciting,” Lacey said, coming forward to pat the horse on the head.

Gold saw her and said, “He doesn't like people.”

But the horse leaned into her touch and allowed her to scratch behind his ears.

“I don't think he minds me,” she said. “He's such a cutie. Tell me about your dragon.”

Gold looked at his horse, a little annoyed, then continued wash it as he spoke.

“Have you heard of Maleficent?”

“Heard of her? I've read all of her books on transfiguration. Probably the only writer who doesn't bore me to sleep.”

“I find her books a little too... showy.”

“So it is true that she can turn herself into a dragon? I always wondered.”

The stallion shook his head, making an indignant noise. Sir Gold smiled at him.

“Philippe's learned that the hard way, didn't you?” he said, patting the horse with affection. “We had to help three fairies rescue a prince from her lair.”

Lacey didn't care much for that, though.

“Can _I_ turn into a dragon?” she asked.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn't I want to?” Lacey retorted. “To have all that power-”

“It is a lot of power. Too much for one person to have.”

“You have it. Or _can't_ you teach me because you don't know how to do it yourself?”

Philippe seemed to chuckle at him.

“Traitor,” Gold whispered at the horse.

Lacey was still waiting.

“Can you heal his leg?” he said, more a request than a challenge.

“Why haven't you done it already? He must be in pain, the poor thing.”

Philippe whined in agreement.

“I had to clean the wound first, or else it might get infected. Will you do it, please?”

“You have me building a house and healing your horse's leg,” she rolled her eyes.

“And since we're at it, I thought I told you not to overdo it with the house. That is not a hut.”

“You also said a lady is accustomed to a certain lifestyle,” Lacey said, though she knew he had a point. She was just too mad at him to admit it.

“There's more to magic than power and greatness,” he said. “The hardest challenge for a sorcerer is to be humble and to not be consumed by their own ambition.”

“I've been told to be humble my whole life,” she argued. “I've found it to be overrated.”

“Yes, I could tell.”

“Tell what?”

“When we first met in war. I could tell you were fighting for the glory of it.”

“Was I really?” she asked, offended. Then, she moved to Philippe's hinder legs. “Because, if you had bothered to talk to me at all, instead of going out of your way to avoid people, you might have known that I was there to heal the horses, at first.”

She touched his leg. Belle was the one who knew how to use this kind of spell perfectly but Lacey had done this several times in the past with reasonable success. She concentrated on the wound, on the feel of the fur against her palm, the flow of magic from her touch to the horse's flesh. The thought of blood vessels and muscles flashed into her mind, more of a color red than actual knowledge of anatomy. When she stepped back, there was the thinnest scar left on Philippe's pelt. Had Belle done this, she would've left no traces at all.

“I wasn't very good at it,” she confessed, apologetic, “but it opened my eyes to see the soldiers living like that. And when you see so much horror, and you have so much power, it is immoral not to do anything about it.”

Lacey felt him looking at her, closely. She shrugged.

“Or so I read in one of your books. _Magic and Ethics_ , it was called. I've been through your library. And some of your drawers.”

“Have you no respect for privacy?” he asked, though he didn't sound bothered.

“Well, don't leave me alone for such a long time and it won't happen again.” She walked away, saying, “I want a real lesson tomorrow. We're already three days behind.”

Gold watched her leave the barn. That was a complicated woman, that much he could tell.

He turned back to the horse. When he tried to erase the scar on his pelt, Philippe moved away from his touch.

“Don't get attached, she's not going to stay.” Gold continued to scrub him clean. “I don't care how much you like her.”

 

 

The frame of her hand mirror was encrusted with diamonds, that was the worse of it. Gold touched it with a calculating look, trying to assess whether they were real or not. They were. Even though the stones were very small, that mirror alone had to cost twice as much as his entire land.

“Did you bring this with you?” he asked, like an accusation.

“I did. It just didn't have diamonds when I got here,” Lacey told him, sounding proud of her work despite the fact that he wasn't pleased. “You weren't back and my home was done. I thought I could spend a few hours on the _decor.”_

Gold gave the room he was in another look. Lacey hadn't pulled any punches trying to make her new home as luxurious as the castle she'd been raised in, perhaps even more. There were gilded frames and handles everywhere and precious stones where they weren't necessary. The fabric on her pillows was soft and the furniture was had been polished to shine. He'd thought he'd have to take her shopping (something he dreaded very much) but she'd handled everything herself.

Right now, she was lounging on a chaise, completely at ease.

“That's not mine,” he said.

“It is. It's that old chair that you had by the window. I just made it... longer. And more comfortable.”

“Out of boredom?”

Lacey shrugged. “As good a reason as any. You can have it back, of course. Same for your blankets and pillows, though I'm currently using one of them as my bed.”

“You're sleeping on a pillow?”

“It _was_ a pillow. Right now, it's a mattress. I had to make some minor adjustments.”

“You're lying on velvet.”

“Not-so-minor adjustments, then.”

Gold wasn't happy. He'd expected Lacey to have a hard time adjusting to a simple life but, apparently, she wasn't the kind of woman who complained about her luck, she was the kind of woman who did something about it. That was a good quality, he supposed, though he couldn't remember why.

“You wish I had kept this a little simpler,” she said. “I can see it in your eyes. Papa has the same look whenever I go too far. Or make magic at all. He's not crazy about that.”

“Do you think his prejudice is unreasonable?”

To his surprise, she seemed to give the question some serious thought and answered, “No, not entirely. The first time I turned a piece of charcoal into a diamond, I thought he'd be happy.” She paused. “Mother was. Well, _impressed_ , not happy, she was always more receptive than him. But Papa was very serious. He sat me down and he explained to me that diamonds and gold and such things were valuable because they were rare. That my magic tricks could easily throw a kingdom into chaos if anyone more... blindly ambitious got their hands on me.” She scoffed. “I'd like to see them try. But I did see his point. And I was grateful, in a way.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Belle understood, she had learned about economy and the politics of money and trade through her books. I hadn't. I was never much of a reader. And there I was, fourteen years of age, having a thorough lesson from my father that I wouldn't have gotten I if hadn't scared him first.” She got to her feet and took the mirror from his hands. “These, however, are only for my personal vanity.”

“Surely you've been told that vanity is a sin.”

“I have. Though I've noticed it's only a sin when a woman is in charge of it. No one called me vain when I was being dolled up to meet suitors I had no intention of marrying.”

He opened his mouth to argue again, but closed it quickly.

“Yes, fine,” he granted. “You may keep your trinkets if they make you happy.”

“I didn't know I needed permission.”

“I am your teacher, milady. You'll have to allow me to have a say in your magic if you wish to learn.”

“I've never been good at trusting my teachers,” she said, “but I will do my best.”

“That's all I ask for.”

She put the mirror down and perked up a bit. “And what will my first lesson be?”

“I was thinking-”

Outside, Philippe made a noise that attracted his attention.

Her face fell. “What is it now?”

When they got outside, it was no surprise when another white dove came down from the sky, carrying a new message. Philippe huffed at it with something akin to impatience. Gold read the new parchment and rubbed his eyes. His voice was apologetic when he said, “I need to leave again.”

“That's unacceptable,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“You've made a deal with me. I was promised a teacher and, so far, I was taught – no, I was _told_ to build a house and heal your horse.”

“And you've done both reasonably well.”

He could see that she wanted to dwell on the word “reasonably” because, as far as she was concerned, her home was done perfectly, and the horse didn't seem to mind the scar she'd left behind, but decided to move the issue along.

“Yes, but I'm not here to be self-taught.”

“There are pressing matters in this kingdom.”

“There will always be. If you can't stay, then take me with you.”

“No.”

“Are you going to face another dragon? Or are you just being your typical 'I work alone' self?”

“This isn't about- Hey!” Gold said when Philippe pushed him with his head.

Lacey pointed a finger at him. “Ha! See? The horse agrees with me.”

“The horse agrees with anyone who annoys me. I think Jefferson cursed him before gifting him to me.”

Philippe shook his head and stomped his hooves to the ground. Gold ordered, “Stop it!” as if they were having a discussion. The horse didn't.

“I can hold my own, Sir Gold,” Lacey said. “You don't have to worry about me.”

“This is a meeting that I've been summoned to.”

“Excellent! I'm great to have at meetings.”

Sir Gold rolled his eyes, seriously considering that he should just get on the horse and leave her behind. Philippe must have sensed that too because he took a few steps back.

“Fine, you may come,” Gold said, reluctantly. “But go change first.”

He could leave when she went back inside.

Lacey snapped her fingers and her green velvet dress tuned into riding gear.

Honestly, he should've seen this coming.

“Will this do or should I put on armor?”

“No armor today. Just a lot of patience. And you should let me do the talking.”

“I'll be as quiet as ever,” she promised. “And where are we going?”

“To meet King David and Queen Snow White.”

“Oh good. I like them. They throw great parties.”

“We won't attending a party.”

He mounted his horse and offered her a hand. She got on behind him and placed her hands on his waist. Gold made a mental note to find the girl her own horse.

“Hold on tight, Philippe is fast.”

 

 

Lacey wasn't ready for how quick the horse would actually be, even though Gold had warned her. It dashed into the woods with thundering hooves and she had to tighten her hands around Sir Gold's waist not to tumble to the ground. At one point, Philippe leaped into the air and, as he landed, Lacey realized they seemed to have crossed a great distance and were now in another land altogether. Was it the horse or Gold's magic, though? She'd have to ask him.

The palace in the distance was one that Lacey knew well. She'd come to many balls here in the past. She wondered if Sir Gold had ever been invited to one, or if he danced at all. It was hard to imagine.

They crossed the gates and, when they dismounted, King David and Queen Snow White were already waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Their faces were solemn but they lightened up when they saw her.

“Snow!” Lacey said, dismounting and giving her friend a hug.

“Lacey, we weren't expecting you,” said the queen, sounding as though Lacey was a pleasant surprise.

“I see that the rumors are true,” King David said to Sir Gold. “You're taking students again.”

“ _A_ student,” Gold corrected him. “Circumstances are complicated. I understand that this is a private affair, but I had to bring her along.”

Lacey glared at him. She'd much rather not be treated as a nuisance he'd gotten stuck with.

“Come, I'll show you what we've found.”

David and Gold walked inside and Lacey followed right behind with Snow.

“I was glad to hear you finally got yourself a teacher,” said the queen. “And such a skilled one at that. I'm sure you're learning much from him.”

Lacey nodded vaguely, not wanting to admit that she hadn't actually had a real lesson yet.

“And how is your sister? I haven't seen her since before the war.”

“Belle is... still coping with everything.”

“Of course, after what happened to Gaston, she must be heartbroken. To lose him the night before the war was over...”

Lacey nodded not to say anything indelicate about her late almost-brother-in-law. She'd never cared much for Gaston. He was rather arrogant and it was clear from the start that he'd only chosen Belle as his bride-to-be because he didn't want a woman who was as headstrong as Lacey. Besides, his prejudice against magic was laughable and he always gave her side glances, as if he was suspicious of something. Of course, she'd never be as heartless as to say that she was glad her sister didn't have to go through with the wedding – one that Belle had only agreed to out of necessity – but she didn't shed many tears for Gaston either.

“If you're with Sir Gold,” Snow White continued, “should we assume that Belle-”

“She's with the Dark One,” Lacey said. “Though I'm sure she's fine. She's learning.”

Lacey saw Gold's head tilt slightly in her direction, understanding that that was directed at him, but continued down the hall without a word until they came into a large room. There was a round table covered in maps. She knew rooms like this, where captains and rulers came together to draw battle strategies.

“It came from the docks, these rumors, and that is all they are,” David said. “Sailors talking. But I don't believe they are to be dismissed.”

“Nor do I,” said Gold. “How many ships?”

David showed him one of the maps. There were seven black crosses drawn on the ocean, each of them closer to the shore signaled as Mist Haven.

“These are our ships,” David explained.

“But other merchants have reported the same,” added Snow. “Details are hazy but we estimate around a dozen ships in the last three months.”

“What you see here, Lacey...” David tried to explain.

Lacey was quicker. “It's the actions of a pirate, yes. At least seven of your ships were robbed at sea.”

“They weren't robbed, they were sunken,” Gold corrected her, his expression turning calculating as he watched the map laid down in front of him.

“How much in damages?” she asked, at the same time Gold asked, “How many casualties?”

David looked from one to the other. Gold signaled at Lacey with a nod. He told her a figure, much larger than she could've imagined.

“Not all of it stolen,” Snow said. “Most of it sank with our ships and our men.”

“And at least half our crew,” David said. “Our sailors are reluctant to go back to the sea. These pirates, they're sadistic.”

“The few men who made it to shore,” Snow said, “told us that their captain was a man with a hook for a hand.”

Lacey saw Gold's hand curl into a fist for three seconds, then relax.

“You know him?” Lacey whispered at him.

Gold didn't look up from the maps but said, “Rumpelstiltskin does.”

“But you remember him,” David said. “From before you... _split_.”

“I do. I can't say this pirate's grievance isn't justified.”

“Justified or not,” Snow said, “these are our men that he's attacking.”

“And he's coming closer to our shore,” Lacey pointed out.

“He has unfinished business with me,” Gold said. Then he shook his head. “With the Dark One. I don't believe he's heard of what's happened, though he'll probably hold me just as accountable.”

“Will you warn Rumpelstiltskin?” David asked.

Gold thought about it and said, “No, he'd only get in the way.”

“Will you face this pirate at sea?” Snow asked. “If so, we'll have a ship ready by tomorrow morning.”

Lacey looked from the queen to her king. Had they been summoned over for a fight?

“I stand a better chance on shore,” Gold said.

David and Snow White exchanged a glance and she was the one to press, “We cannot afford to wait, Sir Gold. We have two ships out there as we speak.”

“But you don't know where this pirate is,” Lacey pointed out. “Surely you don't expect us to roam the seas on the odd chance that he'll find us.”

The three of them looked at her, surprised by her contribution. Then, David and Snow looked at Gold with a question in their eyes.

Much to her shock, he said, “I'll do my best, but she does have a point. Have the ship ready by morning.”

“But how are we going to-” Lacey started.

“Be quiet,” he whispered, rather harshly. “This doesn't concern you.”

Before Lacey had the chance to reply – and she'd have done so much more loudly than a whisper – Snow spoke again.

“There is another issue we should discuss before you go.”

“Yes?” Gold asked.

“When we first heard rumors that you and the Dark One had taken students, I confess, we were apprehensive.”

“I understand.”

“I remember you once told us you wouldn't do this anymore,” David said, and Lacey could be wrong, but she thought she'd heard an accusation in his tone.

“Circumstances have changed,” Gold explained, patiently. “I've made a bet with the Dark One that might actually rid this realm of him forever.”

David sighed. “I don't like this.”

“Believe me, nor do I.”

“I'm standing to your right,” Lacey said, her anger flaring. All eyes turned to her. “In case you've forgotten.”

Snow White came in, her voice soft as to keep the conversation civilized, “What we mean is that, as your allies, we wish we had been consulted on the matter.”

“With all due respect, me queen,” Gold said, “this has nothing to do with you.”

“Do you blame me for being worried? After what happened with Regina?”

Her husband rested a hand on her arm, silently comforting her.

“What we mean is that the Dark One has a way to get what he wants. Your sister is a good woman,” David said, looking at Lacey. “I trust her. But the Dark One has corrupted good women before, and if he does-”

“We want to know what you're going to do about it,” Snow cut in, getting to the point.

“I will handle it. I've always handled it, my queen.” He knocked on the map. “Just as I'll handle this.”

“Besides,” Lacey added, “Belle is so self-righteous, who knows? She might be a positive influence on the Dark One.”

Gold aimed angry eyes at her, clearly thinking that this was not the time nor the place to make jokes. David laughed, though, and even Snow gave her the smallest smile.

“Will you have the ship ready by morning?” Gold asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject back to the most pressing issue.

 

 

“See? I'm an asset to have around,” Lacey said as they walked away from the palace, Philippe following right behind them.

Sir Gold shrugged. He'd claimed that he wanted to walk for a while, to clear his thoughts.

“ _Thank you, Lacey, you were of real help_ ,” Lacey said, mimicking his accent and finally getting his attention. “That's what you should say.”

“It wasn't a complete disaster,” he granted.

“Not the best compliment I've had, but I'll take it.”

“But you shouldn't have antagonized them like that.”

“About the pirate? Snow and David are good people but they're impulsive sometimes. Their plans aren't always the best. Even you admitted that I had a point.”

He went quiet not to have to agree with her.

“What is your story with the pirate?” she asked.

“It's not my story,” Gold said. Then, he added, “Or perhaps it was, it's hard to say.”

“I might be out of boundaries, but-”

This time, Sir Gold laughed.

“You went through my drawers and all but forced me to bring you along to this meeting, but now you worry about boundaries.”

“Yes, but this is a rather _personal_ question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember being... _inside..._ of the Dark One?”

“I wasn't inside of him, I _was_ him.”

Lacey must have seemed confused by that answer because he explained, as best he could, “We were one person, or... one creature, I don't know. Then, we weren't anymore, and I was on the floor looking up at myself, and he was standing there looking down on himself and... neither of us felt real, I suppose. He was as shocked to see that I was a part of him as I was to find out he was a part of me. And then... we were no longer the same.” He shook his head. “It's a complicated matter.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Whoever we were before, that full man killed someone the pirate loved. Rumpelstiltskin was the one who told that man to.”

“And you?”

“I don't kill.”

“You killed ogres.”

“Ogres are beasts, they can't be reasoned with. Then again, neither is Hook.”

“Is that the pirate's name?”

“It's the name he uses now.”

“And what will we do to him once we find him if you won't kill him?”

“You're not coming with me.”

Lacey stopped walking. Philippe made a huffing sound when he almost collided with her and trotted around her, sounding mildly bothered by the inconvenience. Gold looked at her, ready to argue.

“I will not spend the rest of our year together constantly convincing you of what I can do,” Lacey said.

“You will not cross paths with him,” Gold said, adamantly. “He is a dangerous man.”

“I've met dangerous men before.”

“Not like him.”

“You intrigue me.”

“This isn't a game, Lacey,” he said, harshly, making her roll her eyes.

“There you go again. I'm stronger than I look, and more powerful than that pirate.”

“You are here to be my student, not my-”

“Yes, so you keep saying, but you make it look like you're desperate to call off this bet so you won't have to deal with me anymore.”

“Yes.”

Lacey's jaw dropped. Even Philippe stopped moving and went quiet. Caught in the middle of them, Gold didn't look apologetic at all.

“Well, I will not allow for that,” Lacey said. “You're stuck with me for a year so better start making the best out of it – or do you wish for Jefferson to take you away?”

“Don't pretend you're here to help me,” Gold said, pointing a finger at her. “You had your own ambitions when you agreed to this.”

“When did you realize that? In the _five minutes_ you could bear to be in my presence?”

“I will not turn you into the witch you wish to be.”

“Rumpelstiltskin would have!”

“I am not Rumpelstiltskin! I have a responsibility!”

“You have a chip on your shoulder, is what you have!”

Sir Gold groaned loudly to the trees.

Lacey stood still, waiting for him to say something.

When he finally spoke, his voice was firm, but quieter.

“This isn't the time. I need a clear head. You will go back home and wait for me there.”

“No.”

“I wasn't asking. This doesn't concern you and I will not risk your life.”

“What? Should I do another pointless task while you go roam the seas in search of a pirate?”

“You may sit around and do nothing if you wish, as long as you're not here.”

“But I _am_ here and you're not getting rid of-”

Gold cut her off with a flourish of his hand.

Lacey barely had time to shout, “ _No, no, no! That's not fair!_ ” before being sent back to his land, in the middle of nowhere.

Like a child, she stomped her foot on the ground and screamed to the sky. This, as far as Lacey was concerned, was all Belle's fault!

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

By Lacey's account, she didn't see Sir Gold again until the late morning of the eighth day. She'd been Sir Gold's apprentice for over a week and learned absolutely nothing from him – they hadn't even been in the same room for very long, and every word out of his mouth had been dismissive or condescending.

And that is why she didn't feel sorry at all for him when he returned home soaked from his hair to his boots and looking a little green. Lacey, who'd been planting seeds and making pansies grow in front of her house, didn't even try to be nice about it.

“You look like you've been through hell.”

Sir Gold was slightly out of breath so he limited himself to glaring at her. Right behind him, Philippe picked up a pace and went into his stable without looking back.

“He's mad at me because I left him behind,” Gold said. She could smell fish and salt on him and he looked rather seasick. There was a story to be told there but she was in no mood to ask.

“He's not the only one,” Lacey said.

“I won't apologize for that.”

“And I won't be happy about it, so we're at an impasse.” Lacey shoved more seeds into the ground, making a bunch of purple pansies spurt out of the dirt. Just because she was mad, she also made them growl like angry puppies. “You better change. Three more doves came for you.”

“I assume you've read them all,” Gold said, displeased.

“Prince Eric claims that there is a sea witch terrorizing his ships, but I don't think you want to go back into water anytime soon, I mean, you look a little... dizzy. Someone is stealing puppies near the northern border, though that sounds boring, if you ask me. And the Blue Fairy wants to go over fairy dust distribution.”

He didn't say a word, just kept looking at her.

“I'm not begging you for lessons anymore,” Lacey told him. “It's only your fate that we're going to decide. Perhaps I can go live with Belle and the Dark One, once you've been exiled.”

Gold opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I have no time for bickering,” he decided, and headed to his house.

Thirty minutes later, Lacey saw him leave with Philippe again.

She set fire to the pansies.

When he returned that night, neither seemed willing to be he first to talk so Lacey kept to her house, moping over the waste of her time and her talents. This wasn't different from being back home, though. She'd just have to practice by herself, like she always did.

Lacey decided that, the following morning, she would try her hand at transportation spells, maybe do it right in front of Gold's door – perhaps if she lost an arm while doing it, then he'd be more willing to help. However, she was woken up by a knock on her door. She put on her most indignant expression and got ready to tell Sir Gold where he could shove his apologies when she opened the door and saw Jefferson standing in front of her.

“You look angry,” he said.

“I feel angry,” Lacey said. She never felt that she had to lie to Jefferson, he was easy to talk to. “This whole endeavor is not what I was promised.”

“Yes, sorry about that. Gold was just telling me. He, uhn... he's been through a lot, and- he's an idiot, that's why,” he said, clearly too flustered to sugarcoat it. “They're both blundering idiots.”

“Sir Gold is, that much I agree. Though I can't think the Dark One would be wasting time with this.”

“Oh, Rumpelstiltskin is an idiot, too. He's just a different kind of idiot.”

“I'd rather have him, then. Belle made a terrible choice.”

Jefferson paused, his face going from angry to hesitant.

“Yes, about your sister...”

“Yes?”

“She's just arrived.”

“Belle is here? Why?”

Jefferson seemed like he was going to speak, but changed his mind.

“You better hear from her directly.”

For the first time since Belle had trapped her with Sir Gold, Lacey felt truly hopeful. Perhaps her sister, much like her, was miserable until Rumpelstiltskin's tutelage, as everyone thought she would be. She was probably in Gold's home right now, crying about the evil Dark One and how magic was too difficult. Perhaps, and Lacey's heart skipped a beat at the thought of it, Belle was here to offer a trade, to set things right.

 

 

Sir Gold's living room was better than any palace, that much Belle was ready to admit. It was cozy and warm, without the absurd amount of trinkets that needed to be dusted daily, and it felt like a home rather than a fortress. She hated to admit it, but it was possible that she'd made the wrong choice. If she'd come with him, she might have been happier – that is, if she ever learned to look him in the eyes again.

Right now, though, Sir Gold wasn't looking at anyone. Once Jefferson stated the reason for their visit, and the Dark One and Belle had been allowed in, he'd leaned against a wall and stared at the floor. Rumpelstiltskin had paced away from her and was looking around the place, looking disgusted at everything he saw. As for Belle, she tried to stay as far from the both of them as the limited space allowed and she could feel the creases on her forehead and the tension on her shoulders.

Lacey's first words upon seeing her were, “Well, you don't look very happy.”

It was with some relief that Belle realized, “Neither do you.”

“Good, the other one is here,” Rumpelstiltskin said, throwing the words at Belle like a slap. “Speak fast, I don't like this place.”

“No one asked you to come,” Sir Gold said. “You were free to wait in your castle.”

“Quiet, Gold,” Jefferson cut in, standing at the door like he wanted to forbid them all from leaving. “This is a matter that concerns everybody.”

“What is it?” Lacey asked. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Belle said. “I believe that this has been a mistake.”

Belle saw her sister raise her eyes at Sir Gold. Something cold passed through her face and she said, “Yes, I believe it was.”

Belle took in a deep breath. This was going to be the hard part.

“I understand that you wanted to come here to learn. I wasn't keen on it, as you know, but Jefferson did make a good point. Having this gift and just... wishing it would fade away, it would not be wise.”

“But?” Lacey asked, knowing her sister well enough to foresee a counterpoint to that carefully elaborated speech.

“ _But_ recent events have me questioning whether this is a gift at all.”

“What sort of recent events?” she heard Sir Gold ask. His voice was so taunt it was like he was getting ready to pounce if he didn't like the answer. Belle guessed, rather correctly, that he was already blaming Rumpelstiltskin for her change of heart.

“The specifics don't matter,” Belle said, no wanting to be in the middle of this battle any longer. “What matters is that I've changed my mind.”

“Are you here to trade teachers?” Lacey asked, and Belle could tell nothing would make her happier.

This was going to break her heart, but it was for the best.

“I'm here to take you home with me, Lacey.”

Lacey didn't even bat an eye at that. “Don't be stupid, Belle, we can't go home.”

“Listen to your sister, Lacey,” said Sir Gold, resigned. “She knows what she's saying.”

“Does she?” Lacey asked the room. “Because I remember Belle being the one who trapped us in this situation.”

Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. “The girl does have a point, Goldie.”

“Rumple, not now,” Jefferson said, quietly.

“But I do have a point!” Lacey insisted. “I'm stuck with a sorcerer who doesn't think I'm worthy of being taught.”

“Now, hang on,” Gold protested, “that is not what I said, at all.”

“No, but you went out of your way to imply it.”

“I have a witch who doesn't even want to be a witch,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “Perhaps we _could_ trade.”

“That's not up for debate!” Belle said, furiously. “You know why I came here, to call this off. The both of you agreed to it.”

“Did they now?” Lacey said, eyeing Rumpelstiltskin and Sir Gold, the first looking surprisingly apologetic, and latter looking as determined as ever. “And before everyone else decides my fate for me, will you grant me a moment alone with my sister?”

“Of course, Lacey, it's your right,” Jefferson agreed.

Gold tried to say, “But I don't think-” but his friend didn't allow it.

“Gold – outside – _now_.”

Rumpelstiltskin was snickering when they closed the door on their way out.

Lacey was staring at her as if she was expecting an explanation.

“Lacey,” Belle said, trying to sound reasonable, “I know you're angry.”

“Because you seem determined to ruin this for me? Why would that make me angry?”

“I'm not trying to ruin anything but I don't think you realize where we've gotten ourselves into. You're too caught up imagining all the power that you could have-”

“And you're too caught up in the past to see that this is our chance to become better.”

“They don't care for making us better, neither of them do. I'm sure the Light One has been a great teacher-”

“The Light One has taught me nothing,” Lacey said, surprising her, “because he wanted _you_ here.”

“That's not true.”

“He wanted a nice girl with healing powers, who doesn't speak out of turn and who knows better than to turn charcoal into diamonds. He's going out of his way to avoid me since I got here.”

“The Dark One has been trying to trick me into using Dark Magic,” Belle said, angrily.

“So?”

Belle stared at her. “ _So_ , that beast cannot be trusted.”

“Take Sir Gold, then.”

“I can't, Lacey.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Right, because looking at him reminds you of the war, isn't it? Well, you're going to have to move on at some point, Belle. The battle is over! We won!”

“You won!” Belle all but shouted. “You and Sir Gold, you went into battle and people sing songs about your victory, as if it was all a great, big adventure! He came in, he collected his glory, his praise, and then he left – and you were _desperate_ to leave too! Nevermind that we have a land to rebuild from nothing. Nevermind that mother's dead, or that there was barely anything left of Gaston to bury, no, no, that doesn't matter to you or Sir Gold. You never cared about that, you had your fun. You're so _bloody_ heroic, Lacey!”

What followed was a silence so stunned that Belle realized, as she stood motionless and panting, that there was no way Sir Gold hadn't heard her through the door.

Lacey's expression was hard to read, and it took her a moment to recover from the shock.

“Do you feel better, getting that off your chest?” she said, after a moment.

“I don't,” Belle said, though it wasn't entirely true. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off of her.

“Then you should've kept it in. I didn't deserve this.”

On a rational level, yes, Belle understood that Lacey had a point, but she wasn't ready to apologize just yet.

“So that's all you do in your melancholy,” her sister continued, her voice vicious. “I thought you were grieving, but I guess you just go around, thinking of how selfish and uncaring I am.”

“This is pointless,” Belle said, though it might have been wiser, and kinder, to deny the accusation first. “We can yell at each other once we're home.”

“Tough luck, Belle, because I'm not moving.”

“Jefferson said it from the start, it's either the both of us or none at all, and it's none at all. I'm not letting you jump head first into another war. This one won't be as easy on you.”

“Won't be as easy-”

“Lacey, we're leaving, _now_!”

Belle walked out without looking at her.

 

 

There would be hell to pay once they were home, she knew that. Lacey was probably going to set fire to her books, or perhaps she'd pack her bags and leave to see the world, like she'd threatened many times before, but Belle didn't care. She wasn't about to leave her sister here.

“I'm glad to see you girls working your issues out,” Rumpelstiltskin said, giving her a terrible smile.

Belle didn't care. He wasn't her problem anymore. She made a point at not looking at Gold, who had his back to her anyway.

“Jefferson,” she started, “if you could help Lacey pack, we're ready to-”

And then the door slammed right behind her and she saw Lacey storm out of the house and into the field.

“You have some nerve saying that I don't care,” Lacey said, pointing a finger at her. “Hiding at home like a coward, pretending the war wasn't your problem-”

“Excuse me?”

“It hadn't even crossed your mind to become a nurse before I suggested it! You'd have been more than happy to sit back and watch the war unravel from your library, while doing silly tricks for children!”

“It hadn't crossed my mind to become a nurse because, unlike you, I didn't have to prove _something_ to _anyone_!” Belle shouted back. “But you, you just _had_ to go to war. I bet you were sad to see the end of it.”

Jefferson stepped in between them. “Alright! Alright! Let us all take a deep breath before we say anything we might regret later.”

“Jefferson,” Lacey snapped, “shut your ever blabbing mouth and walk away. You're the reason we're here to begin with.”

And Jefferson was wise enough to do just that.

“And you!” Lacey said, looking at Belle again. “You always wanted to be the cute one, the interesting one, the one who did party tricks, but the moment you need to take responsibility, magic scares you, and you try to blame me-”

“And what about you? You're never satisfied! You need to have more, to know more, to _be_ more! I may have hidden like a coward, but you _ran away_ and into the battlefields, and to hell with your own family. And when the ogres came for us-”

“Mom didn't get torn, limb by limb, because I wasn't there! If you only had learned to do more with yourself than turning teacups into birds-”

“It was _one weekend_ , Lacey! You couldn't bare to be with us for _one weekend_!”

“This is your doing!” Sir Gold shouted, right behind them, and both women turned to see if he was pointing a finger at either of them, thus bringing the fight to a conclusion.

But he was pointing at Rumpelstiltskin, who gaped at him, baffled.

“ _My_ doing? What are you talking about? I've brought the girl here, that is the extent of my participation in this matter!”

“What have you been doing to this poor girl? She wasn't bitter before I left her with you!”

Lacey groaned loudly at him. “There he goes again, protecting people who don't need to be protected.”

Gold pointed a finger at her. “That's enough out of you.”

“You're one to talk,” Belle said to her sister. “In one year, you've only talked to me to tell me I should cheer up or let go! I don't want to cheer up, Lacey!”

“You don't deserve to be unhappy either! Not when you barely did anything!”

“How dare you-”

“I've had enough of your bickering!” Rumpelstiltskin said, stepping closer. “I came to bring this arrangement to an end. Either pack or bags or trade teachers, but I need to-”

“Show them some respect!”

“We're leaving!”

“No! We're not!”

“ _Everybody shut the hell up_!” Jefferson shouted, above their angry voices.

He spoke so loud that it made the four of them go immediately quiet. The words echoed in the dark, then died, leaving a deep and uncomfortable silence in its place. Belle and Lacey were not used to being yelled at, and even Rumpelstiltskin and Sir Gold were surprised that Jefferson looked so angry at them.

“I cannot believe this,” he said, his face flushed. “I've brought the two of you here,” he pointed at the women, “so that the two of you,” he pointed at the men, “would stop doing exactly what the four of you _are doing right now_ , only you're doing it louder.”

Rumpelstiltskin said, “But even you can see that I didn't start this.”

“Everything starts with you,” Gold replied.

“Why do you have to be so-”

“ _I said quiet_!” Jefferson yelled again, louder than before, if that was possible.

No one spoke, knowing that any word might ignite the fight all over again. Lacey was burning with anger, and even Belle looked ready to forget all of her restrictions about dark magic and start throwing fire balls.

Finally, Jefferson pointed a finger at Rumpelstiltskin and said, “I will not give you another student.” He pointed at Gold. “I will not let you off this bet so easily.” At Lacey. “I will not give you the teacher you want.” And then, at Belle, “I will not take you home.”

All four tried to protest at the same time.

Jefferson quieted them all at once by shouting, “ _No_! If there is nothing I can do to make all of you happy, then I'll make everybody miserable!”

“But this is preposterous!”

“She doesn't want to learn!”

“He's a cruel man!”

“He doesn't even want to teach me!”

“I – don't – care! The reason we're having this bet at all is that the Light One and the Dark One can't seem to solve their issues any other way. I've been your mediator for too long, you're not coming to me every time you have a conflict with your students as well. You're going to learn to solve your issues, or I'll exile the both of you to the Land Without Magic!

“And as for the two of you,” he said, looking at Belle and Lacey, “you've said a great deal of things that you didn't mean tonight. You better regret them and apologize to each other before the task is set, I'm not adding _your_ issues on top of theirs.”

The silence that followed seemed like the perfect moment to present an apology, but neither Lacey nor Belle volunteered to go first.

Jefferson didn't want to stick around and wait. Without saying goodbye, he turned in his heels and walked away.

“I can take you home, Jefferson,” Sir Gold offered.

“I'm walking!” Jefferson yelled back, sounding himself like a petulant child for the first time.

No one dared move before he disappeared down the road. Lacey was the first to speak.

“If everybody is done screaming, I'm going back to my house, where I can continue to be ignored.”

Rumpelstiltskin took a step closer to Belle. “Back to the Dark Castle, then.”

It took her a moment, but she nodded, and the both of them disappeared into thin air.

Sir Gold stood in the middle of the field, alone and unsure of how to proceed next.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Rumpelstiltskin's first action upon arriving at the Dark Castle was to wave a blast of magic across the room. The curio cabinet in the corner shook in its hinges and the glass shattered into a million pieces.

Belle didn't even startle.

“Got that out of your chest?” she asked, sounding hoarse from all the screaming she'd done moments before.

Rumpelstiltskin glowered at her and said nothing. He'd thought there would be an easy way out of this but, apparently, he'd been uncharacteristically wrong. For the time being, he was lashed to this girl and, worst of all, he had no idea what to do with her. He couldn't get rid of her, teach her, or even kill her because Jefferson would take offense at that.

Might as well shout at her. It wouldn't make him feel better but it would appease his anger.

“You just had to blow this out of proportion, didn't you?” he snarled, bearing his teeth at her. “You couldn't hold your tongue for just another couple of hours, just until you were both back home, oh no! You just _had_ to throw a tantrum-”

“I didn't _throw a tantrum_ ,” she protested, level-headed but offended by his choice of words.

“How would you call that, then?”

The girl dared to eye him with impatience, as if he was the one being unnecessarily difficult.

“I call it 'being hurt',” she said. “Though that might be an impossible concept for you to understand.”

“I understand grief just fine,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “It is your problems that I don't care about. I never asked to be involved in your family drama. All I wanted was a student.”

“I don't believe you.”

“That I don't care about your problems?”

“That you understand grief,” Belle said, “if you did, you wouldn't be so heartless about mine.”

“And why shouldn't I be?” he demanded. To his horror, she opened her mouth to explain it to him. Knowing that she would never shut up if he gave her a chance, he continued, “Do you think the rest of the world owes you sympathy? That you're the only one who's ever lost someone you loved? The world doesn't stop spinning because you're in pain, girl.” Her pretty mouth snapped shut. Still, he didn't stop. “We're all alone in our grief. People will celebrate the war that left you empty, will sister will carry on without looking back, and you won't ever get this pain off you chest by looking back.”

Rumpelstiltskin paused, expecting Belle to argue. To say it again that he was a heartless beast. He actually wanted her to. A screaming match would do him some good right now and, given what he'd seen earlier, it was clear that the girl was rather good at those.

But Belle didn't argue. She just looked at him, her skepticism becoming something else right before his eyes. Something like a comprehension, like she finally knew who she was dealing with.

“I understand grief just fine,” he repeated, more quietly, realizing that he'd probably gotten the last word. “And you can resent that sister of yours for being happy all you want, it won't make you feel better-”

“I'm sorry.”

The apology slipped out of her lips so suddenly that it caught him by surprise. For the first time in decades, Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to say.

“You're right,” she continued. “I'm not the first to lose someone they loved. Whoever it is that you-”

“It doesn't matter,” he said, making her go quiet.

There was a moment of silence between them and Rumpelstiltskin didn't know what to do with it. Shouting seemed inappropriate, somehow, but he didn't wish to speak either last he reveal more than he already had. He thought that perhaps she would excuse herself to go back to the dungeon but she hopped on the table instead, her feet dangling above the floor.

“I wish I didn't resent her, you know,” Belle said, quietly. “I tried not to because I get it. I used to crave for adventure too, once. Like the ones in my books. I understand why she had to leave. And it wasn't her fault, not really, I was the one they wanted at the front but father, he...”

She trailed off, probably realizing that Rumpelstiltskin didn't care for any of it, he'd claimed so himself.

“It's just that she moved on so fast,” Belle said, concluding her thoughts. “Like father and everyone else, and I feel that they've left me in the middle of a battlefield, cold and alone, and no one is coming back for me.”

“No one is,” he said, making those words sound like a lesson rather than a cruelty. “The sooner you accept that, the better. You'll have to rescue yourself from it.”

“Did you do it?” She looked around. “I was isolated too, you know? Except that I hid in my books, not in a fortress.”

“Your point being?” he pressed, impatient.

Belle thought about it, then slumped. Maybe she didn't have a point at all.

Then, she asked, “Do you ever feel like darkness is trying to swallow you whole?”

Though it was wiser to ignore the question, Rumpelstiltskin found himself answering “Yes” and that was the truth. A lie or a quip might have been wiser but neither found a way to his lips. He did understand, perhaps he was the only other person in the realm capable of it.

“Though I fail to see how you could apply to you,” he said.

Belle gave him the tiniest smile, something like pity, for herself as much as for him.

“The day my mother died, I felt it,” she said. “Just like when I made the water boil, but ten times worse. I could feel it surging in me and telling me to destroy everything in my way until my grief was sated. I wanted to leave my home behind and kill as many ogres as I could, no matter the consequences.”

“Good.”

“No, it wasn't good,” she said, not like an argument, but rather a confession. “It was terrifying.”

Rumpelstiltskin was matter-of-fact about it, saying, “It was your right. They killed her, why shouldn't you kill dozens of them?”

“Because...” she started, speaking slowly. It was clearly the first time that she tried to put such thoughts into words. “Because I knew that there would never be enough dead ogres to make me happy again.”

She stared at her own hands, for which Rumpelstiltskin was glad. He didn't want to look her in the eye right now. There wasn't enough death in the world that could restore a broken heart, that much he knew. Still, it hadn't stopped him from trying.

“I stopped using magic after that,” Belle continued. “I was afraid I might give in to my hate.”

“You didn't today,” he pointed out. “For a moment, I thought you were going to set the entire field on fire but you didn't. For much less, you hit me with a book.”

“You deserved that.”

“So did your sister.”

Belle thought about it.

“No... I guess she didn't. I _knew_ she didn't. As we were screaming, it didn't even cross my mind to hurt her. She's my sister.”

“You have more control over your powers than you think. And you're wasting them on cleaning.”

“ _You're_ wasting them on cleaning. And on making me angry, which is the one thing I was trying to avoid.”

“Now, hang on, you never _told me-_ ”

“It wouldn't have stopped you if I had.”

Rumpelstiltskin started protesting, but stopped.

“Very well, I see your point,” he granted. “But as you can see, we're stuck together for the foreseeable future and I won't let Jefferson take me away. If anyone should leave, it's that man.” He jabbed an angry finger in the air, pointing somewhere south. “You hate him too, surely you can be on my side on this one.”

“I don't hate him. In fact, I think you're both overreacting. If it were up to me, you'd both stop squabbling and talk things over.”

Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. “Like you did with your sister?”

“I'm not trying to exile her to another land.”

“Why not? It's quite therapeutic.”

That made Belle laugh and Rumpelstiltskin felt himself almost smiling.

Then, she got off the table and told him, “I want to learn magic. Real magic. I want to learn to use my powers again and use them to do some good. But I won't use dark magic, that is not negotiable.”

“I'm the Dark One, dearie. You knew what you were getting when you chose to come with me.”

Belle frowned. “I hadn't realized that the great and powerful Dark One was so limited.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If you find light magic so difficult, then perhaps we shouldn't do this at all-”

“Now, wait a second!” he protested, raising a hand to silence her. Quickly, he weighed the pros and cons. “Light magic, yes, fine, I can teach you that. Or, at the very least, something neutral.”

“Neutral sounds like a reasonable compromise.”

“To which I'll agree if you promise to do whatever it takes to win this bet.”

“No more tricks, then. You will be upfront with your intentions.”

“And _you_ will stop making excuses.”

“And you'll be polite.”

He growled.

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you really find it that difficult to use words such as 'please' and 'thank you'?”

“I'll be polite if you, _please_ , stop questioning everything I say.”

“Deal.”

She put out her hand.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at it with mistrust. People didn't like to touch him, unless they were trying to harm him. He shook her hand quickly, though she didn't look repulsed at all, and tried to slip away but Belle held on to his hand, saying, “Oh wait!”

“What now?” he asked, feeling trapped in her grasp.

“You'll stay away from my books.”

“I don't care about your books.”

“Good.”

She let go of him.

“Good,” he agreed. “Now come with me.”

“Where to?”

“What did we agree about questioning me?”

“I'm not _questioning_ , I'm asking out of curiosity. Must you be so literal?”

He rolled his eyes. “Will you just come?”

To her credit, Belle followed him without saying another word. He'd mark that down as progress. He led her up a tower she hadn't had the chance to explore yet and that was probably the highest tower in the castle. On top of it, there was a large room, covered by bookshelves from floor to ceiling – each shelf filled with books, the most impressive collection anyone had ever seen.

Belle's chin fell open. “What the- what is- what?”

He smiled at her confusion. “Have you never seen a library before, dearie?”

“This is your library?”

“One of them, yes.”

“One of- You have _more_ than one library? Are the others as big as this?”

“This is the smallest, but let's focus on this one, for now.”

She looked around, dazzled.

“I had a library at home,” she said, “but it wasn't as large as this. Are all of these books about magic?”

“Most of them are. You'll see there are sections for physics, chemistry, history-”

“Stories?” she asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” he said, begrudgingly. “Though I expect you to read more relevant subjects.”

“I'm a fast reader.”

Belle ran to the closest wall and pulled up an old book.

“Careful! Some of these are hundreds of years old.”

“Hundreds? That sounds _wonderful_!”

“Besides, that's fairy language,” he said. “You won't be able to-”

“It's fine. I've studied it.”

When he went quiet, she looked up from the book.

“You _speak_ fairy language?”

“I _read_ it, I have no idea what it sounds like.”

“ _How_?”

Belle smiled. “It took a lot of time. The grammar is confusing and my vocabulary is limited, but I understand it well enough.” She closed the book. “I can read in other languages as well.”

“Good... good, then I won't have to waste time teaching you.”

He waved a hand and five large tomes floated from a shelf to the only table in the room.

“You'll start with these. Healing spells, transfiguration, levitation – that seems to be well up your alley. At the very least, it will make the cleaning faster.”

“And may I take some of these with me to the dungeon once I'm done?”

“Just sleep in here,” he said, making an effort to be dismissive. “The dungeon is damp and it might ruin my books.”

Rumpelstiltskin saw her smile as if the kindness of his gesture hadn't been lost to her.

“Are you offering me a better room, Rumpelstiltskin?”

“I'm giving you a _functional_ room. There's a difference. And I expect to see you studying regularly- and _don't smile_ , girl. We may have agreed on rules but this will still take hard work.”

“I'm not smiling because of the books or the lessons.”

“Well then?”

“I'm just...” she said, trying to put her feelings into words. “I'm actually... happy to be here. That's all. Thank you for the library.”

“It wasn't a gift,” he snapped, though the harshness of his voice didn't erase her smile. “Now, sit down. You've seen the house your sister built, she's clearly much more advanced than you and we have much to cover.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for drinking, grief and implied death of a child.

By nightfall, Sir Gold decided that waiting for Lacey to come to him would be pointless, and hoping that Jefferson would come back with a truce offer, even more so. In fact, he'd never seen his friend as furious as he was that morning, and given the many meetings Jefferson had mediated over the years that was saying something. He'd have to handle this without his help.

Leaving his armor and sword at home not to look hostile, Gold made way to Lacey's unnecessarily large house with a speech in mind. He'd convince her to talk to her sister and make peace with her, and then he'd promise to find her another teacher, someone with good morals and excellent skills. Perhaps the Ice Queen would be so kind, she was a level-headed young lady of immense power and, if anyone could understand sibling issues, it would be her.

Tonight, Lacey had lit a bright fire behind her house. When Gold found her, she had her hands up to the sky, suspending a large rock in the air. Gold could tell it wasn't an easy feat, since the rock was the size of one of his sheep and her hands were shaking slightly from the effort. Still, Lacey didn't drop it. The rock turned and turned in midair until it cracked in the middle.

“That is-” he started.

Lacey snapped, “I don't want to talk, Sir Gold,” without even looking at him. “More to the point, I don't want to listen. Especially if you're here to lecture me.”

“Not at all. What you're doing is rather impressive.”

“Impressive?” she repeated, eyes on the rock. “Not too much, not trying too hard, not overdoing it?”

“You're cracking a rock, Lacey, you're not-”

She shut him up by smashing both pieces against each other, and then throwing the remains of it across the field with a cry of rage.

Gold went quiet but Lacey still gave him a warning look, in case he had something to say. She wasn't in the mood for it.

“It's... better than setting things on fire, I suppose,” he granted.

Lacey walked to a pile of rocks of all shapes and sizes that she'd made near the fire.

“I spin when I'm upset,” he tried, gentle. “It's not as... aggressive, I suppose, but sometimes manual labor is better to focus the mind and to-”

“Did you want anything?” Lacey asked, lifting another rock – smaller, lighter – from the pile and cracking pieces from it.

“I came to see how you were doing,” he said.

“ _Fantastic_.”

She threw that rock away as well, farther than before. It fell in the middle of the forest and something among the tress growled in protest. Lacey shouted for it to “Get out of the way!” and picked another rock with a swish of her fingers.

Gold took in some breath and said, “What happened this morning, I understand that it was very emotional-”

“So you killed someone the pirate loved?” Lacey cut in.

Gold blinked at her, at a loss.

“If you're not going to shut up, I might as well be the one asking the questions,” she explained, making the new rock turn over and over, and Gold could tell that the effort was making her breathless.

“Rumpelstiltskin did. I didn't,” he said.

“But you were Rumpelstiltskin once?”

“No, not the Rumpelstiltskin you know. A different version of him.” Gold shook his head, as if the memory still made him frustrated. “A version that hardly ever listened to his lighter side.”

Lacey began to grind the rock into sand. “That's very confusing.”

“It's complicated to put it into words. It's something like a...”

Gold measured his words. A feeling. It was something like a feeling. Like he was looking into his own memories but through someone else's eyes and he couldn't believe that those actions were his. The bad decisions didn't belong to him, he couldn't remember how he'd justified them to himself, but the guilt and the shame were still his own.

Lacey was now looking at him, waiting for the explanation.

“It's something complicated,” he said.

She didn't seem satisfied with that answer but knew better than to hope for more information, so she went back to grinding the rock.

“And what happened to the pirate?” Lacey asked. “Did you find him?”

“We did. His ship attacked ours and we had a duel,” Gold told her, his voice so matter-of-fact he might as well be narrating a trip to the market. “On the highest mast of his ship, in the middle of a storm.”

“How epic,” she said, her voice flat.

“It wasn't epic, it was unnecessarily flashy. I'm still seasick.”

“And then?”

“Then he set the king's ship on fire to distract me and escaped while I was making sure nobody drowned.” Gold shrugged. “Everyone involved agreed it was a rather anticlimactic ending.”

“Sounds like it.” After a pause, as the grains of sand were blown to the wind, Lacey said, “So the pirate is still out there?”

“Yes. He was rather amused to find out that now he'll have two versions of me to kill, instead of one.”

“Will you tell Rumpelstiltskin now?”

“Perhaps I should, but I haven't made up my mind yet.”

“Right. Well, if the pirate does show up, I'll make sure to, you know, get out of the way. _Again_ ,” Lacey added, bitterly.

Gold sighed. On to the difficult conversation, then.

“I heard what you said to your sister.”

“I believe the village down the road heard us, we weren't exactly keeping it down.”

“When you said that I didn't want you, that I wanted your sister instead... that's not true.”

“Yes, it was.”

Lacey picked one more rock from the pile. Gold made it vanish into thin air so that she'd look at him.

“No, it wasn't,” he repeated, firmly, when her eyes met his. “And if I made you feel unwanted, then I'm sorry. I may have taken my frustration out on you.”

Lacey surprised him by saying, “If you're sorry for that, then... perhaps I should say I'm sorry for forcing myself into your adventure. Though, to be fair, I didn't think I'd get the training I wanted otherwise.”

“You probably wouldn't,” Gold agreed. “If we're being honest, I don't like this agreement. I didn't want it to begin with.”

“I picked up on that.”

“I only agreed to it because Jefferson was the one to suggest it, but I didn't expect you and your sister to be roped up in it. As far as I'm concerned, I should be the one dealing with Rumpelstiltskin, he's always been my problem and... I suppose I wanted to spare the both of you.”

Lacey nodded at him. “You really do have a chip on your shoulder.”

“Please don't start, I'm trying to have a-”

“I'm not starting anything. I was merely observing.”

“Lacey-”

“Do you take me for a child?”

Gold assumed it was a rhetorical question, until he realized she was staring at him, waiting for his answer.

“Not a child, no,” he said, which was perhaps not much of an answer.

She still said, “Good, because I'm not. I've been through war and loss and I'm old enough, and experienced enough, to understand the risks of what I was offered – and don't tell me I don't,” Lacey warned him when Gold opened his mouth to speak. “That would be condescending.”

Since that was exactly what he'd been planning on telling her, Gold decided to rephrase his protest in less aggressive words.

“All I wanted to say is that this is a complicated-” he tried.

Lacey immediately interrupted him. “I saw a bottle of whiskey.”

“What?”

“In your cupboards, there was a bottle of whiskey. And _good_ whiskey.”

“Yes?”

“I'd have thought a knight so noble would've sworn off spirits.”

“We all have our vices.”

Lacey looked at the pile of rocks, then at him. “Let's open it.”

“Lacey, this isn't the time for drinking,” he pleaded. “I am trying to have a conversation with-”

“This is exactly the time for drinking,” she argued. “We both had a horrible day and neither of us is getting what we want. Might as well indulge.”

“Lacey-”

“Put out the fire,” she told him, already starting for his house. “I'm parched.”

 

 

Gold protested all the way up to the house but not as vehemently as he probably should have. Truth was, that bottle had been in his mind all day and he'd only resisted so far because he wanted to keep a clear head. And who knew? Perhaps alcohol would make her more susceptible to mending things with her sister.

“I can turn water into bourbon, you know?” she told him, perusing the cabinets in search of the liquor. “Dad was horrified, as usual, but then he realized it tasted like piss-”

“Lacey, we have things to discuss.”

“We'll discuss them over drinks. Here!” She found the bottle and handed it over to him. “You do the honors.”

Gold rolled his eyes but opened the bottle. She was right, might as well indulge...

“We need glasses-” he started, but she took the bottle from his hand and took a large sip directly from it. He stared at her. “Or we... do it your way, I suppose.”

“My way is better.” She took another sip. Sighed. Smiled. “I needed this.”

Lacey sat down on an armchair and passed him the bottle.

Gold still looked at it for a moment, considering his options, thinking that perhaps he should say no, but ultimately deciding that he needed this. He sat down on the stool he kept by the spinning wheel and took a sip that was much smaller than hers had been. Still, he had to admit it, Lacey had a point. The alcohol soothed him immediately.

For a few minutes, neither of them made a sound as they passed the bottle from one to another.

After her third sip, Lacey said, “I want to learn magic.”

Gold looked at her.

“If we're still being honest, I should say that I never cared for you, or Rumpelstiltskin. The only reason I came was to become a better sorceress.”

“I could tell,” he said. “But better doesn't always mean more powerful. What you need is discernment as to how and when to use your magic and I'm not sure you have it yet.”

“What about Rumpelstiltskin? Does he have discernment at all?”

Gold scoffed. “Rumpelstiltskin has that, alright. He just refuses to use it. Everything he does must have a certain panache.”

He mimicked his counterpart's flamboyant gestures.

Lacey chocked on the whiskey, chuckling at him. “Because you're so subtle.”

Gold took the bottle from her hand, raising it as if to propose a toast. “I have... the right amount of panache.”

“Of course.”

“Going to war was a noble decision,” he told her. “I will give you that. Your heart was in the right place-”

“It wasn't,” she said, surprising him. “You were right.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “If you're willing to admit it, perhaps we should put the whiskey away. But what was I right about?”

“I was fighting for the glory of it,” Lacey explained, not sounding particularly sorry for her ambition. “I wasn't there out of good intentions, at least not exclusively. The moment they asked Belle to come and heal the horses I jumped at the opportunity in her place. I knew I would never amount to much if I stayed at home, where everyone looked at me like something that should be stifled into submission.”

Though Gold had put the bottle out of her reach, she still got up to retrieve it and drink greedily from it. It occurred to him that she probably hadn't eaten anything all day, but then again, neither had he.

“You should eat something,” he suggested, weakly, though maybe he should follow that advice himself.

Lacey ignored him and said, “I'm never going to live up to Belle, you know? Just like your brother will never live up to you.”

“He's not my brother.”

“You and Belle, you have the worst kind of magic.”

“Light magic?”

“Humble magic.” She eyed him from head to toe. “Well, she's better at it than you. Belle's always treated her powers as something that she'd never wanted. I was the complete opposite. From the moment I first felt it, I wanted to make it my own. I was never afraid.”

Gold nodded.

“I was never afraid either,” he muttered, letting the words slip out of his mouth so quietly they were almost like a confession.

Lacey was looking at him now. “You make it sound like it's a bad thing.”

“Sometimes it is. Mistakes are made when you find that you have nothing to fear. You can make the wrong choice.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Gold didn't answer but something in his eyes must have looked particularly dark because Lacey handed the bottle back to him, saying, “I think you need this.”

“I do,” he agreed and didn't put the bottle down until a third of the whiskey was gone. “You should talk to your sister.”

Lacey admitted, “I know.” And that much honesty let him know that the state of her sobriety was not much better than his own.

“Sisters shouldn't fight. As different as you are, you should learn to live together.”

Lacey smirked at him and he knew what was coming before she even said, “Perhaps you should learn to live with your brother, then.”

“He's not my brother, he's a scourge.” Gold swallowed the taste of the whiskey that still lingered in his mouth, though the bottle was still in his hand, nearly empty and very tempting. Then, he said, “The man we were, he had something precious once. Something he had to protect. But we couldn't do that.”

He felt Lacey leaning forward.

“Why not?” she asked, sounding drowsy.

“Because we weren't strong enough. And he, or... we... I don't know. That man stole great power in an act of desperation, just so that he could protect that precious thing. But when the time came and he tasted that power... something dark whispered into his mind that he should seek revenge instead. That there would be time to save the boy later. He lost sight of the thing that mattered because he thought he could have it all.”

Lacey was quiet. He couldn't even hear the sound of her breathing.

Or maybe he was too inebriated to notice.

“And we... he...” Gold continued, his mind foggy but the memories coming to him as clear as ever. “He went after this soldier, this cruel and petty man who had humiliated him. All because he listened to that dark voice. To that scourge.”

“And what happened to the precious thing that you had to protect?” Lacey asked in a whisper.

“He had been taken to war that morning and we didn't know. By the time we reached the battlefield, he was long dead.”

“How old was your son?”

“Fourteen,” Gold sighed. “But he was always small for his age. My Baelfire.”

The name floated in the air between them, light as a feather. Gold hadn't said it out loud in at least a decade.

“That's a beautiful name,” Lacey told him, her voice soft and merciful.

“He was a beautiful boy. My boy.”

Lacey slipped off her chair and knelt before him. She had tears in her eyes. Gold saw his own hand stroking her cheek.

When she kissed him, he knew this was a terrible idea, but he didn't push her away.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Jefferson's anger hadn't fully subsided by the time he made his way back to Sir Gold's land. If anything, his latest decision only seemed to have aggravated it because he'd never been good at admitting defeat. It was better to face the facts, though: he had never been more wrong than when he brought Belle and Lacey into his friends' lives. It might hurt his pride, but he was man enough to own up to his mistakes.

Why had he thought this was going to work out for the best? He'd dared believe that Rumpelstiltskin and Gold might stop their endless bickering and refocus their energy on teaching their students. In turn, Belle and Lacey might each leave the war behind and move forward if they had someone there to support them, someone who understood both the pain of grief and the weight and temptation of power.

Instead, Jefferson ended up with four irritating sorcerers who had too much pain in their hearts to even try to get along. Yes, if you thought about it, it had all been his fault, but that didn't stop Jefferson from feeling frustrated. That blowup had been unnecessary and childish of them, and all because they weren't getting what they wanted.

Rumple had hoped for yet another student who was willing to set the world on fire, as if that had ever worked out for him. Gold wanted someone who didn't need him so that he could wash his hands of the consequences. Belle wanted to lick her own wounds as though that might bring her some comfort, which it hadn't so far. And Lacey wanted to accumulate power as though it might heal all of her wounds and help her prove something to the world. And all it took was for each of them to end up with the wrong person in this mixture to really bring out the worst in them.

Still, Jefferson couldn't say he would've liked it any other way. Putting someone as fiery as Lacey with a dark sorcerer who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn would've had dire consequences. Placing Belle under Gold's overprotective wing would have probably been a mistake as well, as he wouldn't dare to get her involved in this.

Every way he looked at it, Jefferson couldn't find a way to make it work, especially when those idiots clearly didn't want to make an effort. He'd spent the last two weeks turning the problem over in his head, examining it from all angles, hating himself for even coming up with such a concept, and then cursing the names of his friends, only to conclude that the only aspect of this mess that he could truly control was time.

If all the parties involved couldn't tolerate each other and make it work for a year, fine! Then he could bring this arrangement to a much quicker end. They might be open to at least try to get along for a month or so.

The task he was asked to set would be simple, something that would demand the girls to use their knowledge as well as their power. He'd drop a pearl in the middle of the ocean and ask them to retrieve it. Lacey would probably try to drain every last drop of water, and Belle would probably try to befriend a mermaid. It would come down to who was faster and, who knew? Perhaps a miracle would happen, the girls would work together and Rumple and Gold have to flip a coin.

Making his way to Gold's front door, Jefferson sighed. He really wanted this to have worked out, that somehow this would have been healing, but that was a tall order. Putting on a face that he thought said “receptive to apologies, but still mildly annoyed”, Jefferson knocked on Sir Gold's door and waited. Time to get this over with.

Then he felt something _whoosh_ by him – magic, he could tell – and his eyes fell on something rather curious.

 

 

“No, I still don't understand it. You need to rephrase it.”

Sir Gold thought about it, turning the words in his head but finding no other way to put it.

“I can't rephrase it. That's all there is to it.”

“See it in your mind's eye?” Lacey repeated, as if the words were dull and silly. “That can't be it. I can imagine many places quite vividly and you don't see me disappearing into them.”

“You misunderstand me. I don't want you to use your imagination. It's something closer to a memory, which is why it's so complicated to transport yourself to places you've never been.”

“So I need to remember it?”

“More or less.”

“More or less, not quite so, almost that...” Lacey shook her head at him, disapproving. “You make magic sound so disconcerting at times.”

“I can't force magic to make sense, my dear. In truth, magic is, more often than not, a frustrating subject.”

“So I'll need a place I've visited,” Lacey said. “What about Snow White's kingdom?”

“I do recall telling you to start small.”

“It's not _that_ far away.”

“But I was thinking of the village down the road, maybe. Any farther than that and you might lose a leg.”

Lacey nudged closer to him in bed and rubbed her calf against his.

“And we both know you've grown rather fond of my legs.”

Gold tried not to smile when he said, “We were supposed to be getting up.”

Lacey threw a lazy look at the closed window. “Were we? But it's so early!”

“It's almost noon.”

“Then you've been very irresponsible.”

Gold laughed. “Have I?”

“Lying idly in bed all morning. What kind of teacher are you?” Lacey said, but moved even closer so that half of her body was now on top of his. “How do you expect me to defeat my sister and the Dark One if you can't take my lessons seriously?”

Gold brushed hair from her face and gazed into her eyes with amused exasperation. He always looked at her like that, as though Lacey were the most puzzling thing he'd ever been allowed to hold in his arms. A mystery that he'd been given the privilege to uncover.

He'd looked at her like that the morning after they'd first fallen into bed together and it had filled her with a slight panic at first.

She'd told him, “Don't propose to me.”

Gold had stared at her for a moment before saying, “Do men usually propose to you after...” He trailed off and, instead of choosing words, motioned at the space between them, indicating whatever it was that they had just done.

“Some do,” Lacey said, sounding like the fact bored her. “And you're looking at me funny.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm not in the habit of taking women to bed on an impulse.” He rubbed his eyes as if the consequences of such poor judgment were now crossing his mind. “On a _drunken_ impulse, I might add.”

Lacey smiled in the half-darkness of his bedroom. “Who would have thought that the Light One can't hold his liquor?”

“There was _a lot_ of liquor,” he said. “A lot of memories to drown.”

“That there was,” Lacey said. Before any of those memories had the chance to resurface – because they had spent the entire night trying to forget them and the effort had left her exhausted and satisfied and it would be a shame to ruin all that good work – she asked, “Was the Queen of Hearts a drunken impulse too?”

“Hm?”

“The Queen of Hearts. People talk. I'm sorry, I was just curious.”

“Don't apologize. She was Rumpelstiltskin's lover, not mine.”

“Some people say she was the reason he tried to get rid of you.”

“I know. They get their gossip mixed up. She happened long after we split.”

Lacey watched him without saying a word. She could tell he couldn't fully understand how this had come to be. Though, if she really thought about it, she couldn't fully explain it either. It had to do with alcohol and their mutual misery, which made them throw all caution out of the window and dare to act out on a whim. Were this any other man, Lacey wouldn't have given it another thought, but perhaps she should've considered the consequences of bedding her reluctant teacher.

“I am,” she whispered.

“You're what?”

“In the habit of taking men to bed on an impulse. Not always a drunken one.”

He'd shrugged in the dark and that was all he'd had to say on the subject of her promiscuity.

“What I mean,” she continued, “is that you owe me nothing.”

“I know,” Gold said, though he didn't sound completely convinced.

“And if you still want me gone,” Lacey said, getting to the heart of the issue, “I won't hold this night over your head. It doesn't matter what Jefferson said, I will leave if you ask me to.”

“It's more complicated than that,” Gold said. In the silence that followed, his eyes flickered at her, then stared back at the ceiling. “Do you wish to leave?”

“I wish to learn, and if you won't do it-”

“You wanted to stop a river.”

“Yes, but you've made it clear what you think of-”

“Yes, it was a misguided strategy. You could've cut the ogres' water supply, but also the water supply of many villages in the process. You need to think these things through.”

Lacey frowned. “Alright.”

“You don't need a lesson on power, you need a lesson on how to best use the power you already have.”

“And... that is something you'd be willing to do?”

Gold had sat up in bed without giving her an answer. Lacey watched him run his fingers through his hair and could practically hear the torrent of conflicting thoughts running through his mind.

Gold said, “If you are to be my student, we won't do this again.”

Lacey felt a surge of happiness in her chest.

“You do understand, don't you?”

“I do,” she said, but she got to her knees on his bed, not bothering to cover up. “It's still too early to get up, though.”

Gold had hesitate for only a second before agreeing, “Yes, it's not even dawn yet,” and rejoining her in bed.

Two weeks later, he had finally given up saying “We shouldn't do this again” every morning just to have to break his word by nightfall, which was a relief. Lacey knew that he had a point and that, if they stopped to think about it, they wouldn't know how one could fit into the other's future. She just didn't need a constant reminder of it. She'd never cared much about the future and, for now, they had something good going.

Gold was finally her teacher, and while his classes were not what she'd expected, they were turning out to be even better. So far, he'd schooled her in sword fighting and how to use magic to her advantage, without allowing it to make her compliant. He'd allowed her to tag along to small adventures where she could see his skill being applied, most often in subtle and clever ways. And he was trying to teach her new spells she'd either overlooked (“Transfiguration is not a cute party trick, Lacey. It can be essential to survive in the wilderness.”) or that she hadn't been able to try yet.

So far, moving herself around was proving to be the greatest challenge. It was really impressive that he could move all over the land with nothing but a snap of his fingers.

Sir Gold stroked her back. “I take your lessons very seriously, I'll have you know.”

“Good, I'd hate to see you exiled to another realm.”

“I'd have thought you'd be glad to see the back of me.”

Lacey smirked at him. “It's quite a sight, I'll give you that.”

She saw him turn red, which turned out to be much easier to do than she'd have thought and she enjoyed it immensely.

“You're blushing,” she said.

“You can't tell I'm blushing. We're in the-”

Gold stopped talking and looked at the window. The sun was slipping into the bedroom through the cracks in the shutters.

Lacey ignored him and started playing with his hair. “I _can_ tell you're blushing, no matter how dark it is. You got-”

“Jefferson is just outside.”

Lacey stared at him. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to shout some more, I don't know.”

Gold squirmed away from her to start getting dressed. Lacey picked her clothes from the floor.

“I'm surprised he came back at all,” she said. “He was rather furious when he left.”

There was a knock on the door just as Lacey slipped back into her dress.

“Come here, I'll move you back to your home,” Gold said, making a flourish with his hand. Lacey made him stop by giving it a slap. “Ow!”

“I'll do it!”

“This isn't the time for a lesson, Lacey.”

“I think it's exactly the time. I usually perform better under pressure, this might be the help I need to succeed-”

“Or you'll end up naked in my front yard and we'll both have to answer to the most self-righteous Portal Jumper I know.”

“Have a little faith in the best student you've ever had.”

Gold sighed. “I knew you'd throw that back in my face.”

There was another knock. He looked at Lacey and said, “Fine. Just do as I say and try not to lose any limbs.”

 

 

Jefferson frowned in the morning sun, trying to explain what he was looking at. When Gold opened the front door, he didn't even turn around.

“Jefferson!” Gold said, smiling a little wider than usual.

“Yes, hi,” he said, absentmindedly, glancing at him over his shoulder.

“I didn't expect to see you back so soon.”

“Yes, yes, what is that?”

“What is what?”

Jefferson pointed to the house across the field. Lacey was perked on the roof, waving as though that was a perfectly normal place for someone to be.

Gold's smile froze on his face and it took him a moment to say, “I suppose... she's been practicing her transportation spells. That's progress.” He waved at her and shouted. “Good job, my dear!”

From her roof, Lacey gave them a thumbs-up, looking rather please with herself despite of her final destination.

“Yes,” Jefferson said, his mind turning briefly to the moment before he'd spotted her, that rush of magic coming from... but he pushed that thought away. There was already too much to deal with. “May I come in? We have things to discuss.”

“Of course, please.”

Jefferson came into the living room. Gold still spent a moment looking – gesturing? - at Lacey, then closed the door behind himself.

“I feel that I should apologize for what happened the other day,” Gold said.

Not to be deterred from his bitterness, Jefferson said, “You should apologize. You all should. That was ridiculous.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I left you alone for a week and you were on the verge of war.”

“Yes. But, as you will see, Lacey and I have been making progress.”

Jefferson shook his head, unimpressed. “Honestly, I don't care.”

“Jefferson-”

“I just came to try and solve this in a way that won't set the entire kingdom on fire.”

“Of course.”

“I've given this some serious thought and I believe-”

Jefferson stopped. His eyes had just fallen on Gold's bedroom door. It was open just enough to give him a glimpse of the unmade bed, and he had no idea why that caught his attention, but it did.

Gold slammed the door shut with a wave of his hand.

“You were saying?” he asked.

Jefferson didn't say anything, his mind jumping to conclusions that made no sense because Lacey wouldn't – no, no, Lacey most likely _would_ , but Gold usually had more sense than that.

Lacey interrupted his train of thought by coming into the house. Gold was clearly making an effort not to smile too much at her.

“Look who decided to show up,” Lacey said, in good nature.

“You're in a better mood,” Jefferson pointed out, adding that bit of evidence to his math.

“And you _still_ look so gloomy. Why is that?”

“I was coming here. Angry people live here.”

Lacey shrugged. “I'm not angry. Not anymore. Did you see me on the roof?”

“I did.”

“That was my first attempt at a transportation spell. And I still have all of my limbs.”

She lifted the hem of her dress to give him a glimpse of her ankles. Behind her, Gold had suddenly become very interested on the walls.

“Yes, very nice,” Jefferson said, trying to get back on track. Whatever was happening here, it didn't matter. “But I-”

“And look!”

In a puff of smoke, she produce a tray of neatly arranged cookies.

“You... baked cookies?”

“Why would I bake cookies? I've _presented_ the cookies. They were in a jar, now they're on a tray.” She put them forward. “Transportation. I'm never getting up again. All the things shall come to me!”

Behind her, Gold was smiling. Then Jefferson saw him and he schooled his face to a neutral expression. He could take lessons from Lacey on how to act natural...

“Jefferson came for an apology,” Gold said.

“I actually came to discuss our agreement. But I'll take a cookie.”

He took a moment to chew in silence, eyes going from Lacey's eager face to Gold's guilty face.

Lacey made the cookies vanish. “So, don't I get a compliment?”

“Nice cookies.”

“Thank you.”

“Gold doesn't bake them for just anyone.”

Lacey, skilled liar that she was, didn't falter. “Well, I'm an excellent student and so I get special privileges. You'd have known of it if you'd come to see us sooner, instead of sulking in your house.”

“So...” Jefferson started. “You're getting along just fine.”

He smirked at her. Lacey didn't even blush.

The same couldn't be said for Gold.

“As fine as we can,” Lacey said. “Sir Gold still won't let me chase the pirate down with him.”

Gold cleared his throat. “You've assisted me in relocating a dragon and putting and end to the Sea Witch, isn't that enough?”

“She's assisted you?” Jefferson repeated. “Goodness, you've been busy.”

“You have no idea,” Lacey said, and she winked at Gold over her shoulder, either thinking that Jefferson couldn't see it or just not caring

Gold turned a furious shade of red. He said, “What-what did you want to talk about, Jefferson?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jefferson said. “I just wanted to know how you were all doing, I wasn't sure storming out had been a good decision. But since you're clearly making this work... however you are both doing that... that's good news. I will check on your sister next, see what that beast she's living with is up to.”

“I'm sure they're fine,” Lacey said.

Jefferson waited.

“Don't you want me to tell her anything, or...”

“No.”

“Figures.”

He kissed Lacey on the cheek, then clapped a hand on Gold's shoulder and said, “You kids behave while I'm gone.”

“We will,” Lacey promised, saving Gold from having to give him an answer.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jefferson heard her say, “You _really_ need to work on your poker face, Gold.”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

To hell with their deal, Rumpelstiltskin still told her, “No!”

Belle put her hands to her waist, the way she always did when he was being difficult, but looked at him with patience and said, “We agreed that I could do it.”

“Yes, but I've changed my mind.”

“You can't change your mind now. You gave me your word and you never break your word, everyone says so.”

“People exaggerate,” Rumpelstiltskin said, searching his mind for a loophole but finding none. The girl had been clever while negotiating.

“So you're going to break our deal and damage your reputation over a little bit of light?”

“I didn't think you could do it!” he snapped.

“Given that your fate rests in my hands, you might want to show a little more faith in me.”

Rumpelstiltskin groaned at her.

“Stop being a sore loser,” Belle chided.

“But it's my castle!”

“Which is why I asked for your permission first.”

“You didn't ask for my permission, you made a bet!”

“Which I have won.”

“But-”

“This will be painless, Rumpelstiltskin. Will you please just let me get it over with?”

“But it's called the Dark Castle for a reason!” he still tried.

“Yes, and now-”

Belle spread her arms in a broad gesture, savoring the moment. The curtains on the windows opened at her will and allowed the sun into his treasure room.

“Now it's _still_ called the Dark Castle,” she said, “but with better lighting.”

Rumpelstiltskin hissed and she laughed.

“You should be happy. We're making progress.”

“You lifted a rock, girl. I bet your sister learned to do that years ago.”

Belle turned up her nose at him. “Well, I'm not my sister and it feels like a victory. You can either sit there, moping, or you can say, 'Good job, Belle!'”

He still grumbled for a good minute, on principle, but then muttered, “Good job, Belle,” under his breath.

“Oh – my – _goodness_!”

Rumpelstiltskin shot to his feet. Jefferson had come into the room when he wasn't looking and he looked _absolutely_ baffled.

“Did the Dark One give you a _compliment_?” Jefferson asked.

“No!” Rumpelstiltskin said, knowing very well that he sounded like a five-year-old.

“You did! You said she did a good job!”

Belle bit her lips not to laugh at him. Rumpelstiltskin saw it and glowered at Jefferson.

“What happened is that she lifted a rock, Jefferson. It's a basic spell and she's clearly falling behind if she thinks that's a challenge.”

“It was a big rock,” Belle protested, though in good nature. “And as you can see, we had a little bet going on. I'm now allowed to leave the curtains open whenever I'm in the room.”

“I can see that. Must be driving you crazy.”

Jefferson smiled at his friend.

Rumple said, “If you came to mock, you can leave.”

“Don't be a grump, old friend. You should be celebrating. I've only ever known Belle to levitate books.”

Rumple didn't say anything. Belle still levitated plenty of books. The girl might be a reluctant sorceress, but she was quite the scholar. She was poring her way through his library so avidly sometimes he wondered if she slept at all. He'd dared ask as much once and Belle had given him a sweet smile.

“Are you worried about me? That's nice of you,” she'd said.

Rumple had walked away muttering under his breath that a tired sorceress was of no use to him, but she didn't seem to believe it.

“I'm glad that you came to see us,” Belle said, coming closer to give Jefferson a hug. “I wasn't sure you'd visit, after what happened.”

“He's only here to hear you apologize,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “Don't give him that.”

Belle looked at him over her shoulder. “We _should_ apologize! All of us. We behaved very poorly.”

“ _You_ behaved very poorly. _I_ was an innocent bystander.”

“Hell will freeze over before you get an apology out of the Dark One, Belle,” Jefferson said. “I once had to take him to Wonderland and, in less than a day, the entire army of the Queen of Hearts was chasing us out of her land. Do you think he ever said he was sorry for almost costing me my neck?”

“I gave you gold, isn't that enough?”

Belle giggled. “Sounds like it was quite the adventure. Perhaps you can tell me some time, Rumpelstiltskin.”

Rumple crossed his arms. “I'm your teacher, not your storyteller.”

“Charming as ever,” Jefferson said. “Nevermind that, I only came to see how you were both doing.”

Belle looked at him and Rumple shrugged. “We're doing better,” she said. “It's been a very productive couple of weeks.”

“ _Somewhat_ productive, is what I would say,” Rumple corrected her.

“He's always so negative. Here, I'll show you, Jefferson. Would you like some tea?”

Jefferson opened his mouth to answer when a trolley came rolling towards him and collided with his leg. Belle covered her mouth with her hand and Rumpelstiltskin snickered.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting that thing moves faster than everything else,” she said.

“It's fine,” Jefferson said, looking at the trolley. There were teacups and a pot of boiling water on it. He was about to reach for it and prepare tea for the three of them when the set began moving of its own volition.

Belle wasn't even looking at it anymore.

“I've enchanted it myself,” she said, proudly. “And look! I did the same with the brooms and the mops.”

On cue, a wet mop crossed the room carrying a bucket of water on each of its magically grown hands. It made a splashing sound as it moved clumsily across the room.

Rumpelstiltskin glared at it, slightly miffed.

“Let me tell you the fiasco it was when she first tried to make it walk,” he said.

“Goodness, will you never let it go?” Belle said. “I've apologized, haven't I? And anyway, the water was drained already and no harm was done. The entire castle is cleaning itself without me having to move a finger. Other teachers would be proud.”

“Yes, perhaps you're right,” Rumpelstiltskin said. Then he looked at Jefferson. “So when you're choosing a challenge, you should limit it to house-keeping.”

Belle cleared her throat. When the both of them were looking at her, she disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Jefferson stared at Rumpelstiltskin, eyes as big as the enchanted saucers on the trolley.

Rumple reluctantly admitted, “I grant that _that's_ a little impressive, but don't tell her I said-”

Belle reappeared, bringing sugar pot. She offered it to Jefferson. “One lump or two?”

“Two, please.” He handed her his teacup. “You know, that is rather impressive.”

Rumple made a disdainful sound but refrained from making any comments.

“No, it is!” Jefferson insisted. “Lacey is just getting the hang of that and you're doing it so easily.”

“You see?” Belle said to her teacher. “We _do_ have a chance.”

Jefferson drank his tea. Grimaced.

Belle hissed. “Is it the lemon?”

“Yes...”

“I admit, I'm still working on the details.”

“Just don't try anything she bakes and you'll be fine,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

“Baking!” Belle shouted. “I'll be right back.”

And she vanished again.

“I meant it,” Rumpelstiltskin said. “Don't eat anything she offers you. For someone who's so enthusiastic about house cleaning, she's rubbish in the kitchen.”

“I'm glad to see the both of you getting along, finally.”

“Getting along?” Rumpelstiltskin repeated, baffled. “She's driving me insane!”

Jefferson shook his head. “I suppose it was wishful thinking to hope you might have found a way to coexist.”

“We coexist just fine. It's the coexisting that's intolerable!”

“But she's finally embracing her magic and making progress. Isn't that what you wanted?”

“It was great, until she became more confident than she already was. Everything I suggest, she wants to find another way to do it.”

Jefferson nodded. “And... is her way often better?”

“ _That's besides the point!_ ”

“I see.”

“She's very impertinent,” he ranted on. “Just because she's learned a few magic tricks, she thinks we're somehow equal. She wants to share at least one meal a day because she says conversation is good for developing trust- and don't!” He wagged a finger at Jefferson when he tried to open his mouth. “Don't you say that she has a point.”

Jefferson sipped his bitter tea to make sure no words would escape him.

“She's been pestering me about opening the curtains all over the castle ever since we got back, and she touches _everything_ , it's like living with a domestic cat!”

“Rumple-”

“And!” he added, dramatically, “She keeps _talking_ to me!”

“Goodness... it's almost as though she likes you.”

“She doesn't have to like me. She has to respect me.”

“I'm sure she does.”

Rumple grumbled. “Silence is respectful.”

Jefferson chuckled and put down his tea. “And let me guess, you just sit there, like an old grump, ignoring the poor girl? Shame on you, Dark One. I'd have assumed you had some manners.”

“Manners...” Rumple repeated, as though he disdained that word. But then he admitted, “I answer sometimes. She won't stop talking unless I do. I tried locking myself in my tower, but she's learned to bring down the wards.”

“That's good work on her part.”

Rumple didn't say anything. Even he would have to admit that overcoming his protection spell had been a rather impressive feat. He didn't think she'd be able to do it at all, he hadn't pulled any punches when securing that door. Yet, in less than an hour she was coming into the room and laying down dinner (badly burned yet completely devoid of taste) in front of him.

“I'm not that easy to avoid, you know,” she'd told him, pulling up a chair to join him. “Besides, you promised me you'd keep me company.”

The wet mop returned, catching his attention. It put the bucket of water down and started cleaning the floor.

“ _Hey_!” Rumple yelled at it, making it stop. “No one wants you here. Go shove yourself into a cupboard.”

The mop seemed to turn to Rumpelstiltskin and try to stare it down.

“Oh, no,” he said, angrily. “I'm not saying _please_ to the cleaning supplies. Shoo!”

In the blink of an eye, its arms had disappeared and the mop fell flat on the floor. Jefferson was looking at him.

Rumple waved the mop away and explained, without looking at him, “Belle expects me to be polite to her silly objects.”

“The nerve on that girl...”

Jefferson tried to poor tea himself but Rumple sent the trolley away. When his friend was looking at him, he said, “I blame you!”

Jefferson shrugged. “What's new? But what do you blame me for this time?”

“You chose them both very poorly.”

“Granted,” Jefferson said. “The situation is far from being ideal. But that's why I came to see you, actually. Can we, uhn...” he eyed the door. “Speak privately?”

“Yes.” He snapped his fingers. “Done.”

Jefferson stared at him.

“I've put up a shield in the kitchen. That will take her some time to work through.”

“Well, then. I might have a way to solve your problems.”

“Are you finally dropping Gold in Neverland, like I asked?”

“Don't be unpleasant. I haven't even ran this by him. I wanted to know how you felt about it first, since you were the only one who weren't behaving like a child the last time we spoke.”

“Oh!” Rumple said, both surprised and pleased. “That _is_ true. I was very well behaved.”

“ _Reasonably_ well behaved. Regardless, if you give me the word, I can take Belle off your hands.”

Rumple stared at him. This was not at all what he was expecting to hear.

“You'll take her?” he asked.

“Yes. Not right now, we still have a bet. I could, however, cut the challenge short.”

“And what do you meant by that?”

“Well, if you both consent to it, we can make this into a month instead of a year.”

“That's no good,” Rumple said, hostile. “I'd be at a disadvantage.”

“Rumpelstiltskin, I'm offended!” Jefferson said, taking a hand to his chest. “I have always been fair to you. In fact, I might the only person in at least five realms who's still willing to be fair to you.”

Rumple nodded. That much was true. Jefferson had never been biased towards Gold and he was perhaps the only person in the land who had a kind word to say about the Dark One. While Jefferson was in charge of this, he had nothing to worry about.

“I will assess their skills,” he said, “let's say, in a couple of weeks, and I'll find a nice middle-ground. They each have their talents, after all. Lacey is more powerful and well-versed in magic, but Belle has always been the clever one.”

“Yes. That much I could tell.”

“Gold won't have the upper hand.”

Rumple began to pace as he thought the offer over.

“She can be out of your hands in a month,” Jefferson said. “Think about it, no more chattering, no more curtains, no more... sentient mops who get easily offended at your lack of manners.”

“The mops aren't that bad,” Rumple muttered.

“Sorry, didn't catch that-”

“Nothing, it's nothing. A month won't be enough.”

Jefferson frowned, puzzled. “But Rumple, I'm offering you a way out.”

“She won't be ready in a month.”

“A couple, then. Perhaps three? That should be enough time to-”

“No, no, I need a year. I can... put up with her quirks and her chattering.”

“You wouldn't have to-”

“I've already told you that a year will have to do,” he snapped.

Jefferson raised his hands and took a step back. “Alright! Alright! A year it is.” And then, he smiled. “And who knows? You might even get used to the curtains.”

Rumple didn't like the way he said that and was about to give him an acid reply when Belle puffed into the room, carrying a tray of misshaped muffins. She was panting and her dress was dusted with flour.

“Did you try to trap me in the kitchen?” she demanded, sounding rather cross with him.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

Rumple shrugged.

Belle rolled her eyes and offered the tray to Jefferson. “They're cold now because _someone_ wanted to be funny. Please, take one.”

Behind her, Rumple stopped smiling and shook his head rather frantically.

Belle noticed and said, “Don't be rude. It's a new recipe.”

“It's always a new recipe.”

“I've just made them.”

“What, just now?” Jefferson asked, impressed.

“Yes. I bet my sister can't do that.”

“I suppose. Though Lacey did offer me cookies this morning,” Jefferson said, taking a muffin out of politeness.

“You said you hadn't talked to Gold yet,” Rumple said, suspicious.

“I haven't. It was a social call. Just to see if they hadn't poisoned each other. They seem to be getting along fine.”

“And how is Lacey?” Belle asked, putting the tray down.

“Obstinate, but what is new? I think you should write to her.”

“I know. I'm not really sure what to say.”

Rumple tried not to, but couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Belle. On the few instances that she'd mentioned her sister at dinner, she'd barely gotten a few sentences out before becoming emotional and asking to be excused. It was clear that she loved her sister, this wouldn't hurt as much if she didn't, but she didn't know how to fix what had been broken between them.

Rumple didn't miss that nicer part of him, the one who was now running around in golden armor, acting like the living embodiment of everything that was right and good. But he wished he could remember how to be comforting. The only person he'd ever cared about enough to comfort was gone, leaving behind such grief that he'd gone through great lengths to get rid of it. In the end, the grief was still there, it was only the parts that Baelfire had loved that were gone now. His bravery, his kindness, his fairness.

Somehow, though, Belle didn't seem to mind it at all that there was only his darkness left. She continued to sit with him for dinner every night and to talk to him almost like he was a regular man.

“You know what?” Jefferson said, gentle and caring like Rumple could never be. “Why don't you give it a few more weeks? You both need to calm down and think things through.”

“Perhaps you're right,” Belle said.

“And maybe, I don't know, send her a muffin? That's a good icebreaker.”

Jefferson took a generous bite. Rumple saw his face freeze as he tried to chew it.

“Not good?” Belle asked, heartbroken.

“No, no! It's, uhn, it's interesting. What is this?”

“Salty caramel.”

“Heavy on the salty, I see.”

Rumple laughed.

“Don't be mean,” Jefferson said. “Gold is baking cookies for _his_ student.”

“Oh, Rumpelstiltskin cooks regularly-”

“That's because we can't live on her food alone,” he added, as if presenting an alibi.

Jefferson smiled at him. “Good. Then you're all getting along better than I expected. That's a good thing.” He put the uneaten muffin down and gave Belle a kiss on the cheek. “I'm very proud of you. You're doing great.”

“Thank you, Jefferson.”

“And I'm proud of you too-” he tried to say, but Rumple wouldn't hear of it.

“It's time for you to leave, Jefferson,” he said. “You're getting sentimental.”

 

 

Jefferson stood outside the Dark Castle, looking at the many towers as he thought it over. He hadn't planned for this to happen, all he'd wanted was a way out of the endless cycle of truce and war he'd been roped into, but this new development was rather promising. He'd have to see it to the end. He'd have to be sneaky, though. Gold would be horrified if he knew Jefferson was even considering this “True Love” silliness. Rumpelstiltskin would go as far as to turn him into a toad.

Now, he wasn't necessarily “scheming”, what a horrible way to put it. He wasn't planning on doing anything more than monitoring the situation and making sure things were running smoothly. And, of course, _if absolutely necessary_ , he might do a little bit of meddling here and there, to keep them in track.

This might very well be the answer to all of their problems.

The Dark One and the Light One were too caught up in their issues to even try to coexist. But now... now they weren't simply distracted, they were fully engaged in something else.

He didn't think Gold and Lacey would need much of a push. They were impulsive and he could see their relationship having its ups and downs before they finally found their common ground, but Gold was always honest and Lacey was not afraid of her own emotions.

Rumpelstiltskin was the problem. He had the emotional maturity of a little boy and he'd be pulling on Belle's pigtails until she noticed him. Belle, on the other hand, would be stomping her foot and rolling her eyes at him. Those two would need a little help. Or, really, a lot of help. But Jefferson hadn't seen Rumple that open to having another person in his life in a very long time. Besides, if anyone could see past that beastly exterior, it would be Belle.

Jefferson knew that he was being a little too optimistic. Perhaps Gold and Lacey's relationship would be limited to the bedroom and, once their mutual attraction became a routine, they would move on. And Belle might _maybe_ befriend the Dark One, if Rumple stopped behaving like a complete ass, but it was more likely that he would destroy that friendship by being callous. Then, they'd get to the end of the year and he'd have to choose a challenge for Lacey and Belle, which would result in the exile of either Gold or Rumple.

Yes, he knew all of that, but...

But maybe eleven months would be enough to make a difference. If both men were to, hypothetically speaking, fall in love with two sisters, and these sisters were on good terms with each other... than a truce would have to be reached and maintained. And if that was the case, the bet would have to be called off.

It would be difficult, Jefferson knew that, and maybe eleven months would not be enough, but he could always stall for more time.

“I don't have a challenge yet, and I want to be fair with the both of you,” he'd say, claiming that he was waiting on a specific date, or a prophecy, or some other nonsense. Jefferson was rather good at talking his way out of trouble. He could stall for another year.

He could even stall for another two.

Judging by what he'd seen so far, he doubted any of them would mind it at all.

 


End file.
